To Hell and Back
by DR Fronkensteen
Summary: Captured by the Blue Suns and sold to slavers, Nick O'Neil and Vox Castus are rescued by a former Alliance commander that is supposed to be dead.They are given a chance to partake in the suicide mission. Will they go along for the ride?
1. The Night Shift

Nick tossed and turned in his bed. There was a piercing ringing sound that wouldn't stop. He tried to stay asleep, to ignore it. He groaned, finally opening his eyes. An alarm on his omni-tool was ringing. He flicked the device on, blinking his eyes at the sudden bright light.

"Ughh, damn it..." he rubbed his eyes.

"You coming?" a turian voice spoke, only a couple of feet away from his cot.

"Yeah, yeah..." Nick mumbled, sitting up. He read the holographic text as he fumbled for his boots. "Why do they always call _right_ as I fall asleep?"

"The galaxy must hate you." Vox said, checking his equipment. He made sure the seal on his helmet was airtight, and that the filtration system was working. Catching he plague that was ravaging parts of Omega could be avoided if one took the necessary precautions. He hated wearing the claustrophobic clothing all the time, but if it kept him from coughing up blood, he could deal. The turian was already in full gear, ready to go.

"Yeah... I'm sure it does." Nick pulled on his boots, stuffing his laces into his socks without tying them. He flung on his jacket, picked up his medkit, and started towards the exit, Vox following closely behind.

"Where we going?" Vox asked.

"Afterlife... Again." Nick mumbled, looking at his onmi-tool again. "If it's just another drunk, I'm going to kill someone."

"Now that would just make your job harder." Vox laughed as they passed through the security checkpoint of the clinic.

"Not really... It's much simpler to do CPR than deal with a drunkard."

"What if it's a krogan?" Vox thought he was being smart.

"That is pretty fun actually, I've done it before..." The two passed through another doorway, pushing people out of the way as they went. "I had to stand on their chest and jump up and down."

"Did it work?"

"No... But it was fun." Nick clarified, his voice still a bit groggy. Vox laughed. The two rounded a corner, continuing to simply shove others out of the way. They pushed their way into an elevator, letting the doors close before anyone else could join them. Nick smacked the controls with the corner of his medkit, selecting their desired floor. He stood awkwardly as the elevator slowly began to move, letting his eyes wander across the rusted walls. He shifted his weight onto his left leg, cringing when a jolt of pain shot up the limb. He chuckled, shifting his weight back onto his right side. The gunshot wound was mostly healed now, but got sore every once in a while.

"What's so funny?" Vox prodded.

"I was just wondering why I chose you, of all people, to run security for me." Nick mused. "You've shot me."

Vox looked up from his rifle. "That was only once, and it was a minor wound."

"_Only_ once? Once is still more times than anyone else in this galaxy has shot me." Nick glanced over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes.

"Listen, I'm not going to explain this again-"

"Then don't." Nick cut him off, just as the doors of the elevator creaked open. They resumed their quick purposeful walk, soon arriving at Afterlife. The bouncer at the entrance of the club gave the pair a casual nod. Nick and Vox were frequent patrons, both when they were working and in their free time.

"What have we got?" Nick questioned another bouncer inside the bar, this one a turian.

"Eh, another drunk. Got into a fight, he's messed up pretty bad." The bouncer led Nick and Vox to deeper into the club, heads turning to watch them as they passed.

"I figured as much. What's so special about this guy that you bothered calling us?" Nick groused.

"Aria told us to call you, I don't know much more than that." The turian bouncer looked around, before continuing in a hushed voice. "He's some wealthy trader, and she needs info outta him. I think her plan was to get him liquored up so he'd talk, but he ran his mouth and got into a fight instead... Only, you didn't hear it from me." He leaned in closer as they continued to the back of the bar.

"Hear what?" Nick shot back, pulling a pair of medical gloves from a pocket, and putting them on.

The bouncer laughed as they came to a stop. "He's right over there... Have fun."

"Oh, I will. You know what the rules are, keep your people back, let my security work. Vox, do your thing." Nick turned and headed to a nearby bar counter. Vox flipped the safety off his rifle, holding it low, continuously scanning the crowd for any signs of danger.

Nick took a few steps toward the bar, his patient coming into view. It was a batarian, bloodied, battered, and half conscious. He sat on the floor, moaning incoherently. Someone had done a serious number on his face; it was swollen with bits of glass lodged in the skin.

"Hey..." Nick tried to get the batarian's attention. "My name's Nick, I'm a medic from Dr. Solus' clinic." He introduced himself in an unnaturally soft tone. He received a sobbing moan in response. "Anyone see what happened?"

"Yeah," one of the Asari dancers answered. "He got blind drunk and picked a fight with two turians and a krogan. They broke a chair over his back and then smashed a bottle over his head."

"Thanks..." Nick sighed, turning back to his patient.

"I can't see... I can't see!" The batarian sobbed, blood trickling down his face.

"That's 'cause you got hit with a bottle, my friend." The medic grabbed a piece of gauze, wiping away some of the blood, before administering a dose of medigel to stop the bleeding and help with the pain.

"My... My eyes! Are they okay? I can't see!" the batarian was starting to sound panicked.

"Hold on..." Nick was starting to lose his patience. "The two on your left look okay..." He held open the eyes with his gloved fingers, shining a light in. "One on the bottom right is good, too..." Nick cringed when he got to the last one. There was a good sized piece of glass imbedded in the eye. It would have to come out sooner or later, but that kind of procedure was beyond the medic's capabilities. "Top right isn't looking so good, I'll be honest." He covered the eye with a bandage, securing it in place. There was a commotion growing among the crowd in the club. Nick started to worry, occasionally glancing over his shoulder. "You hurting anywhere else?" he asked, doing a quick scan with his omni-tool. Other than having a dangerous amount of alcohol in his blood, and the obvious damage to his face, the batarian wasn't in that bad of shape.

"How's he doing?"

Nick looked up. One of Aria's personal guards was nearby, a human.

"He's not going to the clinic, his injuries are non-life threatening." While the clinic had the right people and equipment, it wasn't worth wasting the resources. There were sicker people that needed them. "He will need to get the eye fixed, but he's not gonna die." Nick continued, peeling the soiled gloves off of his hands as he stood to his feet. "Keep giving him medigel in the meantime. Vox!" he called out with a wave of his hand. "We're outta here."

The turian snapped his head around, giving Nick a nod of acknowledgment. The human medic gathered his supplies, flashing a casual wave at the bouncers as he past. Vox joined him, stowing his rifle.

"So, it was another drunk. What was it you said about killing someone?" they passed back out through the entrance, the artificial flames still dancing on the walls.

"That I'd kill someone if it was just another drunk." Nick replied flatly, too tired to want to partake in any small talk.

"Well, no one is dead."

"Not yet." He shot a wide eyed glance at Vox.

The turian laughed. "I'd like to see you try."

Nick shook his head, continuing his walk back to the clinic. They took a slower pace this time, no need to be in a rush. The medic hadn't had a solid eight hours of sleep in longer than he could remember, and it was catching up to him.

"Come on... Piece of shit..." Nick growled, repeatedly smacking the elevator call button. There was an awful groaning sound as the doors opened halfway. The elevator car itself was missing, leaving Nick staring down the seemingly bottomless shaft.

"Looks like we're taking the stairs." Vox started walking, checking to see if the human was following.

"Woulda stayed at the damned pub if I knew..." Nick didn't like taking the long way back to the clinic. The slums along the way had gotten increasingly worse over the past few weeks. Different factions constantly warring against each other, and the plague was getting worse all of the time. Some had taken to burning the bodies in the streets in an effort to stop the spread, but it was futile. He was grateful it didn't affect humans—it was a nasty disease. But there were no free rides in this galaxy; every race that wasn't human now blamed humans for engineering and releasing the disease. And that made it very dangerous to be human in this part of Omega.

"Lovely neighborhood." Vox armed himself at the sight of a dead salarian. The body was lying at the bottom of the first set of stairs. "This one's not a plague victim."

"Yeah, I can tell..." Nick drew his own pistol from under his jacket. The body was riddled with bullet holes, lying face down in a large pool of dark green blood. The two became very quiet, moving slowly down the hall to the next stairway. Vox held his Avenger rifle up at his shoulder, while Nick made sure no one would sneak up from behind.

"You hear that?" Vox froze, listening intently. There was faint screaming coming from around the next doorway, mixed with a loud clanging sound.

Nick nodded.

"Ready?" Vox clicked the safety off.

Another nod.

The turian unlatched the door, before giving it a powerful kick. It swung open, bouncing off of the wall with a loud bang.

"I can't see shit..." Nick peered into the room, squinting his eyes.

"Because you're not prepared.." Vox tilted his head, a soft green glow coming from the visor of his helmet. He could see the entire room, all bathed in the green hue of night vision. There were bodies scattered all about, the obvious aftermath of an intense battle. He took a few steps into the room, Nick following close behind.

"The hell are you talking about? I'm always prepared..." Nick activated the flashlight on his omni-tool, shining it into the darkness.

"Hey! Turn that off-" the turian hissed, but was interrupted by an explosion of gunfire. They both dove for cover, firing blindly at their attacker. The gunshots from both sides lasted an intense few seconds, before coming to an abrupt stop.

"Stay down, I got this." Vox ordered, smacking a new thermal clip into his weapon. He popped out of cover, doing a quick scan of the room. He walked forward, a lone figure doubled over on the ground on the other side of the room. "Get your hands out!" he bellowed, taking a few more steps forward. No response. "I said show me your hands!" he was almost standing over the figure now, identifying it as a human male. He poked the man with his boot.

"Nick! Got one down over here, don't know if he was a shooter."

The medic jogged over, tossing his kit down next to the unknown man. "Did the rest of 'em clear out?" Nick asked, searching his pockets for a pair of gloves.

"Looks like it... Damned vorcha. They love doing ambushes like this... They think it's fun."

"But this guy isn't vorcha, how do you know he's not one of the shooters?"

"Look at his armor." Vox pointed out. "There's too much blood. He started bleeding long before we showed up."

"Right..." Nick grabbed the unconscious human's shoulder, getting ready to roll the man onto his back. "Hey, see if you can find a light switch somewh-" There was a dull clunk, and the room was bathed in a bright orange light. "That was quick." He glanced around, searching for the turian. Before he could see where Vox had gone, he felt something that made his stomach churn. The cold steel of a pistol being pushed into his neck.

"Don't...move" A voice growled. Nick turned his head back to the supposedly injured man who had been lying on the ground.

"Nice trick."

"Shut it." The human sat up, keeping the pistol pushed against Nick's skin. It was now obvious that the man's wounds had been faked; he hadn't really been bleeding at all.

"This a mugging? Here, you can have my credit chit-" Nick reached inside of his jacket, putting a hand on his own pistol. He paused for a second, pretending he was mumbling for something in his jacket, then pushed the gun away from his neck as hard as he could with his free arm. He fell onto his back with a thud, landing a few powerful kicks on the mugger. He drew his pistol as he stood, aiming it back down at the mugger.

"Vox! Get over here and help me with this." The turian didn't respond. "Vox! Get the hell over here!" Nick turned his head, doing a double take when he saw what was behind. A crowd of about ten Blue Suns stood with their weapons trained on Nick. Vox was frozen in biotic stasis, unable to do anything to stop the mercenaries.

"Drop it." One of the Suns ordered, this one a turian officer.

Nick considered all of his options, his mind working on overdrive to try and figure out the best one. Any attempt to run or fight would be met with certain death, there was simply too many of them to take on. Surrender... Well, there was a pretty good chance of the same outcome. He closed his eyes for a moment, having made up his mind. He made a sudden dash for one of the closest doorways, thinking that he could make it through before the shooting started. He was wrong.


	2. Murphy's Law

Nick questioned his own judgment for a moment. He regretted making move like that. Lucky, only one of the mercenaries had opened fire. They must be more senior members of the Suns, having more trigger discipline than the average goon. Unluckily, the mercenary who did fire hit his target, sending a round right through Nick's previously injured leg. He fell headlong into the wall, and endless stream of obscenities leaving his mouth.

"Son-of-a-_BITCH!"_ he shrieked, sliding down the wall to the floor, taking the weight off of his again-injured leg. He didn't look at the wound, but he could already feel blood soaking through his pant leg.

"If you had listened to me, I wouldn't have had to do that." The turian officer took a few steps forward.

"Back off." Nick spat, raising his pistol. He studied the alien with an inquisitive look on his face.

The mercenary laughed. "You are in no position to make demands, my friend." He took a few more steps closer to the medic, seemingly not concerned with the gun being pointed at him.

"I said... _Back. Off."_ Nick was ignored again. "I'm not mentally stable, I'll do it." He tightened his grip on the pistol.

"He _is_ pretty crazy..." Vox spoke up, now free from the biotic stasis that had him frozen moments ago.

"Thanks for the help." Nick leveled his sights on the mercenary officer. He pulled the trigger six times in rapid succession, each round bouncing off of the officer's shields. "Well... Can't say I didn't try." He tossed the overheated weapon down. It hissed and steamed as it hit the ground.

"Your friend over there was right... Most people without a death wish wouldn't have done that. Now, please, cooperate. Or I'll have to shoot your other leg." The turian said flatly, clearly unamused.

Nick raised his hands then dropped them, sighing in resignation. "Shaft me."

"What?"

"Nevermind..." He put pressure on his wound, pulling his leg up to his chest. "What do you want? I'm telling you right now, I ain't got nothin' for cash."

"No, I'm not interested in money... Well, not from you, at least." The officer picked up Nick's discarded pistol, handing it off to one of his cronies.

"Well, you're screwed then, 'cause I'm not telling you shit."

"What do you want to know?" Vox interrupted, still holding his hands in the air. "I'll be willing to cooperate. If you'll let us go."

"There's someone who has some sense..." The officer approached Vox, giving him a friendly smack on the shoulder. "I'm Colonel Crixus. You spent time in the Hierarchy, son?"

Vox nodded, staring into the Colonel's icy grey eyes.

"I did my time, too... I'll always have respect for my fellow veterans."

"So do I," Vox lowered his hands. "But I don't have respect for someone who is nothing more than a glorified thug. No offense."

"None taken," Crixus chuckled. "I used to think just like you."

Vox tilted his head back to regard Crixus warily, a 'look-down-your-nose' motion he'd learned from Nick. "What changed?"

"It's a long story... I'd be happy to tell you after you answer my questions."

"I can't tell you I'm all that interested now."

"I don't mean to interrupt-" Nick raised a bloodied hand. "Well, I do, but are we just going to sit here and let me bleed? Or can I get to my damned kit?"

The Colonel nodded, and one of the mercenaries responded by grabbing the medic's kit. Two of the thugs rummaged through it, checking for anything that could be used as weapon. Satisfied that there was nothing hidden in it, they tossed the case to Nick.

"You wanted information. What was it?" Vox started again as Nick went about tending to his own wounds.

"I'd like to talk with you alone for a few moments." Crixus motioned to a room off to the side. Vox simply stared back. He reluctantly began walking forward when one of the other thugs gave him a stiff prod with a rifle. There was a table with a chair at each end in the cramped room. The other turian shut the door as he entered, sealing the two off from the other group.

"Have a seat." Crixus offered as he took a spot on one of the chairs. Again, Vox reluctantly complied. Even though officer seemed friendly, there was a threat behind every single request. If you didn't go along with their good mannered charade, then the guns would come out. "I separated us so we could discuss business more easily than in front of the others."

"I'm not stupid. You separate the two parties when you begin an interrogation. No matter how you frame it, you're _not _doing me a favor." Vox was growing impatient.

Crixus sat back in his chair, the fake smile quickly leaving his face. "You're more like me than I had first thought." His tone was even colder than before.

"I'm flattered."

"The Blue Suns have noticed that you and your human pet have been working for a medical clinic."

"That much is true." Vox had no idea why the mercenaries were so interested in the clinic.

"Run by a doctor Mordin Solus."

Vox nodded again with an impatient tapping of his hand on the table.

"The Blue Suns have a...rich history with the good doctor. He's stepped on a few too many toes recently, so, as you can imagine, we've decided to act."

"Act? In what way?"

"How do the Blue Suns usually act?"

"Extremely violently. With little or no disregard for others."

"You have your answer. He's also getting a little...too close to a cure for the plague for our comfort." Crixus sighed, calling up some information on his omni-tool.

"How is finding the cure a bad thing?" Vox narrowed his eyes.

"We make good money off of providing quarantine and security for affected areas." He typed something into the holographic keypad, looking up occasionally.

"You mean protection rackets." Vox scoffed.

Crixus shrugged. "What we need from you is intel on the kind of security the doctor employs... Among other things. In exchange for your—and your friend's—freedom."

"You can't expect me to give that away." Vox put his elbows up on the table, leaning forward. "Plus, I'm not sure what I do know would even be of any use to you. Mordin also knows how to structure an organization. No one knows any non-essential information. Must have learned it in the Special Tasks Group."

"I figured you'd say something like that. Fortunately, we have...other resources to use on your friend."

"He doesn't know anything more than I do."

"That's not what my colleagues and the other room are saying." Crixus nodded down at his omni-tool. He must have been getting updates from Nick's interrogators. "Humans. Their minds are so... Fragile. I don't know why you waste your time with such a being."

"He's saved my life. On more than one occasion." Vox let his frustration show through his voice and the way he shifted in agitation in his seat.

"I never said they weren't capable. I was involved in the First Contact War, I've seen their..._unique_ brand of ingenuity myself. But individually, they're so...disgusting."

"I never said I found the man appealing." Vox almost laughed, just barely managing to hold it back.

"Well. I have to cut this talk short." Crixus stood, motioning for Vox to follow. The high ranking mercenary led him back out to the main room. Other thugs were about the room, seemingly in a more relaxed state than before. Nick sat at a table in the corner of the room, a frustrated human mercenary sitting across from him. Vox noticed something was off about Nick; the medic stared blankly off at a wall, rocking back and forth.

"Damn... What the hell did they do to you?" He asked, being directed by Crixus to sit down next to the man.

Nick looked over at Vox, his eyes glazed over. He simply stared for a few moments, before taking a deep breath. "Well, I gave myself a r-r-rather stiff dose of pain meds for my leg, then they wanted to talk to me so I came over h-here and then they stuck me with a mixture of temazepam and sodium thiopental in an effort to get more i-information out of me, but I kind of feel like the room is just spinning right now." Nick strung together a long sentence, stumbling over and slurring a few words.

Vox nodded, amused by the human's drugged state.

Nick took another deep breath, continuing his mumbling rant. "I'm not sure why you guys chose to use those drugs while interrogating me, they do inhibit some higher brain functions, but they really just make it harder to distinguish between reality and fantasy and make me really talkative, so while I may run a higher risk of giving away information, it will be unreliable at best. I told this guy that, but he insisted on shooting me up." He nodded to the human mercenary. "Which means I now have an excuse to act like a total asshole."

"You've never needed one before." Vox remarked.

"You're r-right, I didn't need one before because... 'cause..." Nick lost his train of thought and the room seemed to spin even faster. He steadied himself, burying his face in his arms. "I am _very _dizzy..."

"So, Mr. O'Neil..." Crixus returned, shooing away the other mercenary that had been seated at the table.

"Yeah," Nick's voice was muffled behind his arms.

"You did well answering some of our questions, but you left out a few of the more important ones."

"That's-" he lifted his head up, letting his glossed-over eyes fix on Crixus. "That's 'cause I don't kn-know the answers to those ones."

"What was your job at the clinic?"

"Come onnnn..." Nick groaned. "You're asking me again? The drugs ain't helpin', can't you tell?"

"What was your job at the clinic?" Crixus repeated again, more forcefully.

"Doc Mordin would send me out after patients who couldn't get into the clinic. I suggested the idea; I didn't like being cooped up in there. He thought it was good because it might improve r-relations with the multiple factions on Omega. What bullshit that ended up being." Nick flashed a wry smile.

"What was his job?" Crixus pointed at Vox. Nick looked at his friend for a moment, the gears slowly turning in his head.

"Besides an emotional wreck? He did security when I'd go out... Ya know, keep folks from bugging me while I worked, watch my back, that kinda stuff."

"I see... And-"

"But mostly, he was an emotional wreck." Nick cut his interrogator off, continuing to ramble. "You'd never know from seeing him when he was working, always cool headed and professional. But during his time off, he'd sit in a corner and mope. Then one day, he lost his temper, got piss drunk, and tried to kill himself. Girl issues... Brings out the worst in us."

If Vox had been human, he would have turned red out of embarrassment and anger.

"What other types of security does the doctor have?"

"I dunno... Lots. Any volunteers with combat training, and a few mechs. He takes what he can get." Nick slurred.

Crixus nodded, typing some more on his omni-tool. He took a breath in, ready to say something, but a batarian mercenary tapped on his shoulder. He stood and walked to the other side of the room, having a hushed conversation.

"If you weren't on drugs, I'd have killed you for that." Vox said under his breath when he was confident Crixus was out of earshot.

"Hmm?" Nick had spaced out again.

"Nothing."

"No, I heard you say something."

"Nevermind."

"Okay." Nick rested his head in his arms again. "Narcotics do not mix well with barbiturates... I feel like I'm falling... And there might have been some other stuff in that cocktail, I'm pretty sure I can hear colors right now." He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear up what sounded like a mixture between a busy city street and rushing water. The room seemed to stay dark, even after taking his hands away from his face. He blinked heavily, but there was nothing more than the loud white noise and darkness. He could feel himself slip out of his seat and hit the ground. After that, nothing.

Everything shook. Something burned his nostrils and the back of his throat. Nick moaned, squirming around on the cold and slightly damp floor.

"Nick!" He could hear a voice hiss, still sounding like it was underwater. He tried to ignore it, his brain wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep. "Nick!"

"What?" he finally blurted, annoyed at whoever was trying to wake him.

"_Wake up!"_

Nick moaned again, bringing his hands up to his face. "I'm awake..." he grumbled, struggling to keep his eyes open. "Did I go out drinking last night?"

"No, you got captured by mercenaries, drugged, and then sold to batarian slavers."

"Oh." The words didn't have an effect on him. At least not right away. Once some of the memories started coming back, his eyes shot open. He sat up against the wall as quickly as he could, taking in his dim surroundings. The walls were closed in on all sides, completely smooth apart from some small rivets near the edges. The floor was slippery and wet. "Where the hell am I?"

"On a batarian slaver's ship." The voice whispered again.

"Vox?"

"Yeah."

"Where are you?"

"Over here." Nick glanced around the tiny cell, stopping when he saw a small slot which was most likely used for passing food to whoever was unfortunate to be trapped inside. The metallic flap was being held open, and a beady pair of blue eyes were peering in.

"What the...hell happened?" Nick asked again.

"I told you. We got captured, you got drugged, then the Suns sold us to slavers. We're on their transport ship now."

"Damn... I don't remember _any _of that..." The human sat up a bit more. "Holy shit!" He hissed as a sharp pain shot up his leg. He looked down at his tattered pant leg, catching sight of a blood soaked bandage. "What the hell... Did you shoot me again?"

"No, that wasn't me." Vox shook his head.

"I don't believe you." Nick shot him a glare.

"I don't care, listen..." Vox paused, checking to make sure the coast was clear. "I was able to get out of my cell, the stupid bastards left me with my omni-tool. I was able to get a distress call out from one of their communications terminals, and someone picked it up. They're trying to board us now."

"Wait... What?" The flood of information had overwhelmed Nick.

"Give me ten minutes, I'll have you out." The metal flap closed with a light clink.

Nick sat alone in the dark cell, trying to process what had just happened. He remembered leaving the clinic and going to Afterlife. Everything else after that he couldn't recall. His head pounded, and his leg was throbbing..._again_. After checking the state of the wound, he concluded he must have been shot at least a few hours ago.

The whole ship shook again, this time Nick was sure it wasn't the drugs. He could tell something had just attached itself to the hull... Something big. Worried sounding voices and footsteps echoed down the hallway, followed by gunshots. A few loud clunks of a lock, and Nick's cell door swung open.

"Human." The batarian in Blue Suns armor stood in the door way, pointing a finger at the cell's only occupant.

Nick looked from side to side, then pointed to himself. "Me?"

"Don't be smart." The bararian growled. "Your friend escaped and now there's a Cerberus ship docking with us right now, and they're sending troops aboard. I don't know why they want you, but you're going to be my insurance policy."

"Bite me." Nick stated simply, looking up at the menacing alien.

"What?"

"Go screw yourself."

The batarian responded by giving Nick a stiff kick in the ribs. It wasn't a terribly hard impact, but painful nonetheless.

"The more you cooperate... The less I'll have to beat you."

"Funny..." Nick spoke in between light chuckles, holding onto his ribs. "That's what your mother said last night." The batarian kicked him again, harder this time. 

Nick shielded his face from the blows, blocking his view what happened next. Out of nowhere, the batarian was hit from behind, sending him sprawling against one of the walls of the cell. A fraction of a second later there was a deafening shot from a pistol, and the slaver slumped down to the ground in a bloody mess. Nick pulled his hand away from his face, looking at the dead batarian with a shocked expression.

"You all right there?" A soft feminine voice chuckled.

"Uh... Yeah." Nick tried to focus on the human woman, but his vision was still blurry. He could tell she had dark hair that was pulled up neatly, and was wearing some type of expensive military-grade armor.

"There's a turian out there who told me to find you. You're Nick, right?"

"Yeah." Another absent-minded nod.

"Well, we should get out of here." She extended a hand to help the medic to his feet. "My name is Cara...Cara Shepard." 


	3. Familiar Faces

Nick studied the woman for a moment. Shepard... The name was familiar, like he had heard it on the news or in passing conversation. Not that he cared about such matters anyway.

"Like you already said—" Nick struggled to his feet by himself, ignoring the Commander's helping hand. "My name is Nick." He stood gingerly with most of his weight supported by his uninjured leg. "So why are you here?" A look of confusion crossed his face.

"I'm your ticket out of here." Shepard smiled, taking a few steps back out of the cell.

"Huh..._Vox!_" Nick called out. Shepard seemed mildly surprised. She motioned at someone who was down the hallway. Nick could hear footsteps echoing down the hallway.

"Yeah?" Vox stepped inside of the cell, giving a respectful nod to Shepard as he passed.

"Who's that?" Nick pointed at Shepard.

"This? You don't know who this is?" Vox scolded Nick, glancing back and forth between him and the commander. She crossed her arms and gave a forced smile.

"I'm familiar with who it is, yes. I just want to make sure I'm still not hallucinating from whatever the mercs shot me up with... And I always pictured the savior of the galaxy to be a _guy_..." he furrowed his brow, studying the Commander.

"It's Shepard." Vox confirmed in a flat tone, a bit embarrassed. Shepard chuckled.

"Okay," Nick flashed a thumbs-up. "So I'm either completely sober, or _really _high." He hobbled away from the wall, cursing at the pain in his leg. "So what's the human who supposedly saved the galaxy doing rescuing an Alliance washout and his mentally unstable security detail?"

"Well, we picked up a distress call—" Shepard stopped herself, pausing to rub her forehead for a second. "Listen, I'd love to talk, but we're in a hurry. Come on board, and then we can find a time to chat." She motioned for them to follow and started back down the corridor.

"Uh... Hello?" Nick called after the disappearing figures. Vox had followed Shepard, leaving Nick standing alone in the doorway of his cell. "I can't really walk that great... Unless you were planning on having me crawl out of here..."

"I'll get him..." Vox cut Shepard off as she was about to call for someone. The turian backtracked, finding the rather annoyed looking human leaning against the wall.

"Nice to see that you remembered me," Nick griped.

Vox ignored his typical sarcastic tone, offering a shoulder. The two slowly made their way back down the long hallway, stepping over dead Blue Suns along the way. "You know..." Nick bit his lip as he took a step. The pain was relentless and was really starting to wear on him. Each heartbeat caused a dull throb. Any sudden movement or weight on the limb shocked him with a jolt of searing pain.. "I think this one hurts more than the one you did."

Vox was about to utter a response. He took a breath in, not sure whether to say something nice or give Nick a dose of his own medicine, but before the words could be formed he was stopped by the sound of another conversation from around the corner. They both stopped, listening to the echoing voices.

"Commander, why are we here? We don't have time for this. We need to get to Omega," a female voice, tinged with an Australian accent, complained. 

"A Hierarchy SOS came from this ship. Only a turian would know how to encrypt it, and in case you didn't notice, not a single one of those Blue Suns idiots was a turian." Shepard replied. 

"So we're picking up stragglers? Fantastic." 

"Lawson, if you're going to complain, go back to the _Normandy_. I don't want to listen to your bitching." Shepard snapped.

"Huh. She sure doesn't take shit from anyone..." Nick whispered, holding his head to the side so he could listen.

"Too bad for you," Vox replied in a low tone, actually worried about how Nick and the commander would get along after the introductions were done.

After rounding the corner, it wasn't much further to the airlock. Shepard was standing near the open entrance to the _Normandy_. Waiting with her were another two humans, a male and a female.

"Nick, Vox..." The Commander started, "This is Miranda Lawson, and Jacob Taylor." She motioned to the two humans. Vox and Jacob exchanged friendly nods, while Nick and Miranda both mumbled something while avoiding eye contact.

"You can't be serious, Commander," Miranda spoke up, almost sounding like she was begging. "We can't afford to bring on every low life on board... Whether they've been captured or not."

Shepard ignored her. "Well, Vox, Nick. Let's get off this scrap heap, shall we?" turning, she pushed Miranda out of her way and stepped passed Jacob. "Oh, and, don't listen to a _thing _either of these two say."

"Shepard!" Miranda snapped. 

Shepard stopped and turned to face Miranda, slowly. "I'm going to give you one warning, Lawson. If I hear you complain, whine or question me _one more time, _I swear to _God _I will cut out your tongue with a blunt and rusted knife." 

Miranda colored and her back went rigid, but she didn't speak again. Jacob coughed softly. 

"You got something to add, Taylor?" Shepard looked at him. 

He stood at attention. "Ma'am! No, ma'am!" 

"Good. Back to the _Normandy. _Now." She watched as Miranda and Jacob hurried off, then turned to Vox and Nick. "Sorry about that. They're Cerberus agents and...well, the Illusive Man and I aren't friends. Let's just put it that way. Come on."

She made her way through the airlock, walking slowly to allow Nick to limp along with assistance. The pair had to blink their eyes as they boarded the _Normandy_. The lights were intense, at least compared to the dark and run-down environments of Omega and the ships that frequented the terminus systems. Shepard glanced repeatedly over her shoulder, smiling when she saw the amazement with which the two were gazing about the ship. She motioned them towards an elevator.

"Fancy ship ya got here..." Nick mused as the doors slid shut. "Nice being on something that isn't mostly rust."

"And it's nice to see you not complaining about something." Vox commented, not missing a beat.

"Give me a few minutes... I'll find something..."

Vox mumbled in agreement. The doors slid open, arriving at one of the lower decks. Shepard feigned a slight smile before continuing to sickbay. Maybe she was having second feelings about bringing these two guests on board. Or maybe it was just everything else on her mind.

"This is Doctor Chakwas. You're going to be staying with her for awhile, I imagine." She helped Vox with getting Nick over to a bed, introducing the doctor at the same time.

"A couple of stray pups, Cara?" Chakwas asked, smiling. 

"Blue Suns had them. Gonna sell them to slavers, probably. Joker picked up their emergency transmission and I thought I'd lend a helping hand. Anyway, Chakwas, this is Nick and Vox," she gestured to each of them in turn. "Take care of them, yeah?" 

"Of course, Commander." Chakwas came forward, readying supplies to begin treating Nick's gunshot wound. "There's a bed for you right over there." The doctor nodded toward an empty bed while looking up at Vox for a moment.

"I'm fine, I wasn't injured." The turian assured.

"I would still like to perform an assessment; you've likely been through a lot."

Vox nodded, heading over to the next open bed. He didn't lay in it, but merely leaned up against it with his arms crossed. He wasn't angry, just a little on edge.

"I can see this isn't your first time encountering a gunshot wound..." Chakwas noted the still healing scar only a few centimeters away from the fresh wound.

"No—ow!" Nick cringed as the doctor inspected his leg. "This fellow over here gave me that old one. He says he didn't do the new one, but I don't believe him." Nick turned his head to look at Vox.

"Don't believe him?" Chakwas prepared some equipment, typing momentarily on her omni-tool.

"I don't remember the past 12 hours... Or barely remember. The Suns drugged me."

"You _have_ been through a lot. Good thing you two got off of that other ship when you did."

Nick laughed. "Yeah, and now I'm lying on the operating table of a Cerberus doctor... I feel really safe right now..."

Shepard watched them for a few minutes, listening to them recount whatever Chakwas asked of them. Nick was mouthy but Chakwas took it in stride, even pushing his buttons with good natured banter. Shepard smiled. Vox was the picture of a perfect patient and impeccably polite. He reminded her, painfully, of Garrus. Her smile faded.

"Chakwas," she piped up, "our next stop is Omega. I'm picking up a salarian, a turian and some mercenary Tim paid to work on the team. I fully expect the shit to hit the fan, so keep the sickbay ready."

Chakwas nodded, her back turned as she tended to an injury. "Aye, Commander. I'll be ready." 

"See you kids later," Shepard said to Nick and Vox. "Don't let Chakwas hurt you too bad." 

Chakwas laughed softly. "It's only for their well being," 

Shepard grinned and chuckled as she left, calling over her shoulder, "Yeah, that's what you said last time!"

Chakwas began cleaning Nick's fresh gunshot wound as the sickbay door hissed shut, debriding it and flushing it out with saline. "I'm actually former Alliance," she clarified, about Nick's earlier statement. "After the Commander died, we—the crew of the first _Normandy_—were all grounded. My place is on a ship, and when Joker told me about everything Cerberus had done and that he was going to fly for the Commander again, I had to come along."

"I'm ex-Alliance, myself.. Was a combat medic, got a dishonorable discharge. I'm not sure what stories you heard about Cerberus, but I've heard quite a few horror stories. But, hey... The Alliance, the Suns, Cerberus... Nothing but armed gangs in my book. Different levels of finance and equipment, sure, but they're all essentially the same..."

Chaskwas nodded, bandaging the now clean wound. "I'm inclined to agree with you, but they've given me back what the Alliance took away, so I'm also inclined to let their past slide."

"Don't get him started on this topic... He won't stop once you get him going." Vox uncrossed his arms. He fiddled with a piece of his armor absentmindedly.

"Hey, I'm getting better about it." Nick shot back.

"You two are like an old married couple," Chakwas mused, smiling. "How long have you been friends?"

"All yours buddy, I'm talkin' too much already." Nick tilted his head back, glancing at Vox with his eyebrows raised.

The turian let out a long sigh. "A few years I guess... Although, we hadn't seen each other for a couple of those years in between. Nick was shot down on a planet that was under geth attack... I was on a Hierarchy ship that was sent to investigate."

"That's the short version." Nick made sure to add.

"Well, it does sound like you two have been through a lot. It's nice to see more and more humans and turians getting along together, especially for someone like me who's experienced history first hand." Chackwas began putting away some of her supplies. Both Nick and Vox chuckled slightly.

"It's more like we just tolerate each other." Nick inspected his new bandage, noting that the pain level in his leg had decreased significantly.

"I'd be inclined to agree... Which doesn't happen that often." Vox quipped.

"The men's loo is on the port side of the ship, and there's a small bar in the port observation deck. There are also bath robes and towels on the shelves in the loo." Chackwas spoke to Vox, abruptly changing the subject. "No need for you to stay here and you do look like you could use a shower." 

_"There is a laundry chute in the restroom as well. Deposit your current clothing in the chute and clean clothing will be provided to you." _A computerized voice chimed in, causing a surprised reaction from the ship's two new members.

"An AI... huh. Maybe Cerberus is lightening up a bit." Nick realized what the voice was.

"I thought you didn't like AI programs." Vox started slowly to the door.

"I don't. It's just odd seeing one on a Cerberus ship."

"There's only one shower in each loo, so you'll have to wait until your friend gets back, or you can brave the ladies' room." Chakwas said, a hint of mischief in her voice.

"Come back if you need anything." The doctor called out as Vox walked through the open doorway. He nodded as the door hissed shut behind him. Glancing around briefly, he was reminded of being back on a Hierarchy ship. It appeared that this incarnation of the _Normandy_, like the last one, had incorporated quite a few turian design features.

He walked through the mess deck, exchanging passing nods with other members of the crew. Vox had always been taught growing up that Cerberus was a terrorist organization, radicalized by a xenophobic belief system. Either Shepard had changed the attitude of this crew, or Cerberus was starting to become friendlier with other races in the galaxy. Maybe something out there was threatening enough to cause Cerberus to branch out, to accept help from others. Perhaps that was why Shepard was here...

Vox pushed the worries out of his mind. The hot water of the shower felt amazing. Good showers on Omega were scarce, especially showers with quality water. And there was the fact that work in Mordin's clinic never ended, making it so it was nearly impossible to find the time for such things like sleep or showering.

Vox didn't send his armor down the laundry chute. He washed it to the best of his ability in the shower, although he did claim a new set of plain under garments. While it did appear that Cerberus had changed, there was no way in hell he would be caught wearing one of their uniforms.

Once back out to the mess deck, he could see Nick was now standing in the medical bay. The doctor must have been able to fix his leg quickly; Cerberus must have shelled out for state-of-the-art medical equipment as well. Vox stood, again looking around the ship. He hardly knew any of the crew yet, but he almost felt at home. It was...relaxing. It was an odd feeling.

A faint commotion could be heard coming from near the elevator shaft. Lots of shouting, but it was too muffled to be heard clearly. Vox stepped closer to the medical bay, listening closely.

"_Get out of the way_!" A voice from behind bellowed. Shepard ran past, carrying a turian over her shoulders like it was nothing. She entered the medical bay, the blood from the injured turian now visible. "Chakwas!" she yelled, dumping the dying alien onto the nearest empty bed. "_Chakwas_!" 

The woman in question came sprinting in from the other end of the room, yanking on a pair of gloves grabbed blindly from the cabinet. "Move, Commander!" 

Shepard backed away, breathless and covered in blue blood. "Do something! He's dying!"

Nick, rushed in to help, yanking a pair of gloves onto his own hands. Shepard hovered nearby, watching anxiously. Then-

"Mr. Taylor, get her out of here!" Chakwas ordered.  
"I'm not leaving—" Jacob came forward, but she socked him right in the nose. Blood spilled from his nostrils. "I'm _not leaving him!"_

"Doc!" Nick shouted. "We need to turn him, he's coughing all kinds of shit up." The doctor complied, helping the medic rotate the injured turian onto his side. The alien heaved and sputtered, expelling blue fluid onto the bed and down onto the floor.

Vox stood in the doorway, watching the horrific scene. He felt bad for the hurt turian. Shepard appeared to be almost in hysterics, which was almost scarier than all of the gore and blood. Seeing that kind of raw emotion brought back emotions of his own. He caught a glimpse of something on the injured turian's shoulder as he was rotated on his side. An emblem of a golden eagle, its wings spread, with two golden bars underneath. It was archangel.

"Vox!" Nick yelled, his face red and frustration showing in his voice. "You gonna stand there lookin' pretty, or you gonna help us? Get her out of here!" He pointed quickly to Shepard, who was still in hysterics. Jacob was halfheartedly tugging at one of her arms, still dazed from the blow to the face he received only moments ago.

Vox stepped forward, grabbing the Commander's other arm. They managed to drag her outside after quite the fight. Admittedly, Vox wasn't concentrating a hundred percent. He stood outside the medical bay, a scared and enraged Shepard staring him down. Vox couldn't tell if the expression on her face was terror, or rage, or if she was silently pleading to him for reassurance, or some combination of all three. He chose pleading and reacted accordingly.

"Go and get cleaned up..." He said in a reassuring tone that even surprised himself. "I'll keep an eye on your friend." He patted her shoulder, releasing his grip on her arm.

Something unreadable flickered across her eyes. She turned and looked through the window, at the frenzied activity around the turian she'd carried in. Vox still wondered how the hell she'd carried him by herself—turians weren't exactly _light._ She faced him again after a moment and nodded once, then turned and walked toward the elevator.


	4. First Impressions

_Special thanks goes to my co-author and beta reader, Deviantart user ilikeshinyobjects. _

* * *

"I got the bleeding stopped..." Nick peeled off his medical gloves, discarding them in a nearby red bin. He and the doctor had worked for hours, and were finally getting somewhere. "It's all up to you now." He nodded, stepping past the doctor.

The turian was in bad shape, but there was still a good chance he would pull through. It appeared that an explosion, likely a rocket or grenade, had gone off only a few inches from the alien's face. The armor nearby took most of the impact, a large chunk having been blown away. It still sent shrapnel into the turian's neck and face. He was lucky he got treatment so quickly, he would have bled out in a matter of minutes without it.

On his way out of the medical bay, Nick paused. A familiar symbol on the turian's armor caught his attention. He picked up the piece of armor, studying it closely. He shook his head in disbelief.

"Chakwas... Do you know this guy?" he continued inspecting the insignia.

"Yes, of course I know him. His name is Garrus Vakarian. He served with Shepard on the last _Normandy_. Used to be Citadel Security before then." She spoke, a sense of pride detectable in her voice.

"I see..." Nick took the piece of shoulder armor with him. "Vox!" he called out as soon as the doors opened. The turian was sitting at an empty table in the mess deck.

"How's he doing?" Vox looked up, seeing Nick rushing over. The human looked anxious, his strides were quick, and he was forcing back a devious grin.

"We got him stable, pretty good chance of him pulling through." Nick sat down across from Vox, holding the piece of armor under the table.

"Good. You've been in there a while, I was starting to worry. And Shepard is pretty upset. Maybe you should give her an update-"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll do that. But first, take a look at this." Nick brought up the piece of armor from under the table. He seemed impatient, speaking in a quick hushed tone, his movements erratic.

Vox squinted at the insignia, but he recognized it instantly. Two gold stripes, above a silhouette of a gold bird, its wings spread. "I noticed that earlier... Thought I was seeing things..."

"Well, no doubt now." Nick set the piece of armor down on the table and pushed it towards Vox. "Must be fate. Too bad the guy was kind of an asshole." Nick leaned back in his chair. "Not that I even believe in fate... But you know what I mean." He added.

"I _don't_ know what you mean." Vox picked up the insignia, turning it over in his hands. "There wasn't much else he could have done in that situation. It was foolish of me to think I could join him." He truly felt embarrassed about his former goal of joining Archangel on Omega. Then to have his idol literally show up out of the blue. It seemed as though the galaxy was just teasing him.

"_And..._" Nick held up a finger, anxious to tell Vox more news. "Apparently he served on the first _Normandy_, with Shepard and...whoever else was on the crew."

Vox looked up, his eyes wide.

"Makes you wonder why the hell he decided to go to Omega after all that... I guess taking on the Blue Suns, the Blood Pack, and Eclipse would seem like a piece of cake after dealing with a Reaper." Nick continued.

The two sat in silence for the next few minutes. Nick tapped his foot impatiently, occasionally checking his omni-tool. Vox played with the Archangel insignia, repeatedly turning the piece of armor over in his hands.

"What would Cerberus be doing with Shepard and Archangel? And from what it sounds like, they're still looking for more crew members. Human or not." Vox pondered aloud.

Nick shrugged. "Good question, but hell if I know the answer. Sure is weird, though... All of the non-humans, and the AI... Not your typical Cerberus."

"And Shepard is supposed to be dead." Vox said, almost nonchalantly.

Nick's eyes went wide. "What?"

"Well, Killed In Action officially, the first _Normandy_ was destroyed while she was on board. Everyone assumed she was dead... I guess not." Vox explained while watching a confused expression cross the human's face.

"You didn't think to bring this up earlier?" There was a tinge of annoyance in Nick's voice.

"There was too much going on... I was more concerned with getting us off that slaver ship alive." Vox shot back defensively.

Nick furrowed his brow, suddenly deep in thought. "So, Cerberus either has a cloning program, a very convincing body double, or they can bring dead people back to life-" he stopped suddenly as the elevator doors slid open. Shepard stepped out, having cleaned up a bit since bringing the injured turian on board.

The commander walked over to them and came to stand at the edge of the table. She was wearing the black looser-fitting Cerberus uniform, minus the jacket. The shirt was black and fitted with sleeves that went down to her elbows. Her hair was loose and unbrushed since her shower, so it was a wavy, tangled mess, hanging over her shoulders in dark curtains. She didn't say anything to them. Instead, she reached out and picked up the shoulder pauldron, looking at the gold emblem emblazoned on the blue armor.

"He's going to be alright. Couple more hours with Chakwas, and we might be able to wake him up. It's just the sedatives that have knocked him out," Nick said, looking up at her.

Shepard nodded mutely.

"Shepard..." Vox spoke up softly. "Let me know if I'm overstepping my bounds here..."

Nick scoffed softly and shook his head. Shepard looked between them both and let her gaze settle on the turian.

"...is that Archangel?" Vox finished, nodding toward the sickbay.

Shepard looked down at the piece of armor in her hands. It was scuffed from countless months of wear, the gold of the bird faded to a burnished shade. It shined dully in the bright halogen lights in the kitchen and she thought that at one point it might have been bright and shiny. Lifting her gaze to Vox, she nodded once. Her hands shook lightly not due to nerves, but due to the fact she couldn't remember the last time she had eaten something.

"Yes. His name is Garrus Vakarian." She said.

"See? I wasn't bullshitting you." Nick said in his usual frustrated tone. He looked over at Shepard, noting her shaky hands and almost wobbly stance. "I think you need something to eat," he said, standing. "You're crashing."

He moved into the kitchen and threw open a cabinet, looking through it.

"We've got what looks like...fruit juice? And some type of...granola energy bar..." he closed the cabinet and returned to the table, tossing the energy bar and bottle of fruit juice on the table.

Shepard looked at them, then took a seat at the table and dragged the two items over, ripping the wrapper of the bar open and taking a small bite out of it. Crumbs dropped onto the table as the granola bar broke between her teeth. It tasted bland and dry, but didn't all energy bars taste like shit? She sighed through her nose and twisted the cap off the bottle of fruit juice, washing down the granola bar with a mouthful. It tasted of mangoes, strawberries and bananas. And it would have been better cold.

"Vakarian?" Nick sat back down at the table, resting his forearms in front of him. "Why the hell does that name sound familiar?"Shepard looked at him with tired blue eyes. He shook his head after a moment, brows furrowed. "Hm. Probably nothing," he said.

"I don't know who Garrus Vakarian was-_is_," Vox glanced at her briefly, "but I know who Archangel is. I tracked him to Omega all the way from the Citadel."

Shepard looked at the dark-plated turian. "Why?"

"Vox here has a little bit of a man-crush," Nick teased.

Vox sighed, resting his face in his hands. "I'm just surprised he's still alive. The gangs were doing a number on him."

"You met him before?" Shepard asked.

"Yeah, yeah..." Nick waved a hand in the air. "The guy left behind a wake of dead gang members, plus all of the retaliation he got in return. I worked in medicine on Omega; there's no way you leave that many corpses behind and don't run into me." He finished breathlessly. "What's this I hear about you being dead?" he changed the subject rather rudely.

"I _should_ be dead..." she started, her gaze distant. Nick raised his eyebrows, motioning for her to keep talking. "I..._was_ killed. I was ejected from the wreckage of the SR1 after getting Joker into an escape pod. There was a tear in the environmental tubing going to my helmet and I started venting atmosphere. Then, I...started falling into the atmosphere of the planet we'd been passing." She drifted off a bit, vividly recalling the biting, penetrating chill of the vacuum of space seeping through her hardsuit, the sudden suffocating feeling and the utter panic that followed, the searing, white-hot heat that had made her scream.

She shook her head and looked at Vox and Nick again. "Somehow, Cerberus recovered my body and started work on the Lazarus Project... They spent two years and an _astronomical_ amount of money rebuilding me." She shook her head again slightly, reaching up with a trembling hand to brush her hair away from her face. Her fingertips brushed the not-yet-healed and glowing scarring on her cheeks and it stung sharply, but she didn't let it show. "And now, I'm _obligated_ to humor the Illusive Man. Not that I have a choice, though..."

"Brought you...back to life?" Nick was dumbfounded. "You're telling me they brought you back after you were exposed to a vacuum, and re-entered the atmosphere? Fixing the physical trauma aside, how did they restore electrical activity to the brain? With _no_ permanent damage or loss of function? I don't believe it..." He was so perplexed by the aspect of bringing a human back to life that he didn't notice the Commander's comment on the Illusive Man. "It's hard enough bringing someone back two minutes after they die. How could they be sure it was actually _you_ when they revived you? The brain makes up everything we are; memories, personality, skills... Even the slightest trauma to the central nervous system can cause huge changes. You didn't lose any of it? I still don't believe it." He stood, looking closely at the Commander.

"The planet I fell to is an ice-covered planet with no breathable atmosphere. Alchera," Shepard said. "I was basically flash-frozen, and then put in a cryostasis pod when my body was recovered...but if you want all the details you'll have to talk to Miranda Lawson. She personally managed everything about Lazarus. Her office is over there. And you're welcome to run your own tests if you're curious." She gestured to the starboard side of the ship, across the galley. Shepard paused a moment, chewing on her bottom lip. "But...I _do_ have some memory loss..." she admitted, hesitantly.

"How much memory loss are we talking here? Forgetting the names of your parents and where you grew up? Or forgetting what you had for breakfast this morning? 'Cause I do the second one all of the time," Nick said, still not convinced of what he was being told.

Shepard stood and stepped away from the table, rocking from one foot to the other. "I remember my parents' names. Hannah and Matthew. I grew up on Mindoir but memories of my childhood are spotty. I _vividly_ remember the raid on Mindoir when my parents and everyone I knew were murdered or taken for the slave trade. I don't remember much of basic. The years leading up to and the events of the Skillian Blitz are spotty...but I remember my turian bunk mate clearly... Decimus Arkas. And I remember how he died. Covered a grenade with his body to save our squad."

"All right, all right." Nick rubbed his forehead. "Jeez, I didn't ask for your whole life story."

Shepard raised a brow at Nick. His attitude would earn him more than a few black eyes here. "I assume you've had military training." She turned her attention to Vox. The turian nodded in response. "What kinds of weapons can you use?"

"A fair amount," Vox replied. "Assault rifles and pistols are my favorite. I'm good with the rest, but I favor the other two. I'm also good at settling disputes between teammates who don't get along." He shot a look at Nick.

"Hey, I could have finished those fights myself if you hadn't stepped in." Nick snapped back.

"Then why didn't you take the chances you were offered to finish it in a sparring match?"

"I fight my best in the heat of the moment," Nick shrugged.

"Meaning you knew you'd get your ass kicked." Vox's mandibles clicked.

"Yes." Nick nodded.

"Well, if you can show yourself to be an asset to the team, I'd love to have you on board." Shepard nodded.

"Thanks," Vox said, flaring his mandibles in a smile.

"That mean I'm a member of the team, too? Or you guys gonna dump me on the first rock with an atmosphere you can find?" Nick crossed his arms.

Shepard raised a brow at him, crossing her arms as well and leaning forward with her elbows on the table. "If you piss me off, I might be inclined to consider it."

"Oh boy... This is gonna be fun..." Nick stood, rolling his eyes again. "I'll be...somewhere on this ship if anyone needs me." He stood from his seat, rubbing his face as he wandered to the nearest doorway.

"He may be a bit...abrasive. But he's a damn good combat medic." Vox tried to stick up for his friend as the man wandered off.

Shepard glanced between Vox and Nick, tipping her head back a bit. "If he pulls his weight, I'll cut him some slack. Right now, I've got to go back on Omega and pick up a salarian doctor from the slums. He has skills I need for this mission-"

"Doctor Mordin Solus?" Vox cut her off, an inquisitive look on his face.

"What about doc Mordin?" Nick's head snapped around when he heard the name.

"Yeah, Mordin Solus. What do you know about him? His was one of the many dossiers that Tim sent me. All I know is he's former STG and runs that clinic." She grabbed the bottle of fruit juice she'd abandoned earlier and took a drink from it. "I'd meant to get him first, but I'm glad I changed my mind and went for Garrus...he was on his last legs when we got there." She glanced toward Garrus' sleeping form in the sickbay, then looked at Vox and Nick, thumbing the top of the bottle in her hands.

"Know him? Yeah, of course we know him." Nick folded his arms, giving the commander a stern look.

"Nick and I worked for Doctor Solus on Omega. Nick would provide treatment to people who couldn't make it to the clinic, I would provide security. It was in an effort to improve relations with the gangs..." Vox added.

"And what bullshit that turned out to be," Nick snorted. "I mean the part about improving relations with the gangs..."

Vox nodded, continuing, "The Blue Suns ignored the kind gesture... They captured us when we went out for a patient."

"Then we got taken on board some dingy little cargo ship, you showed up, and here we are. That's the short version at least." Nick finished.

Shepard shifted in her seat, crossing one leg over the other and taking another sip from the bottle of fruit juice. She recalled what EDI had said about a quarantine in the slums. "EDI, the _Normandy_'s AI, said something about a quarantine in the slums," she said. "She told me to expect resistance going in. What else should I be expecting?"

"Mercs... _Lots_ of mercs." Vox cautioned. "...but that hasn't stopped you before."

"I'd also take caution in bringing any non-human squad members... The plague can be avoided if you're careful, but I wouldn't risk it. Vox only managed to avoid it 'cause we kept him cooped up in full armor and helmet when we were in the effected areas."

"The only good thing about being kidnapped onto that merc ship..." Vox ran a hand over his head and along his fringe, and took a deep breath. "I thought I was getting claustrophobic."

Shepard nodded quietly while they spoke, then stood up, walking in the direction of the elevator. She gestured at Vox. "You and Garrus are my only non-human squad members so far. Solus will make number three." As she spoke, the elevator door hissed open and Jacob appeared, walking to the fridge. "Taylor!" she addressed him. "Have you seen Massani?"

Jacob opened the fridge and took out a beer, popping the cap off on the edge of the counter. "He said he was gonna look for somewhere to bunk. Haven't seen him since," he said, tossing the cap into the garbage.

_"Mr. Massani is currently located in the starboard cargo area."_ EDI answered.

Shepard stood. "Tell him to meet me at the CIC. Taylor! You too."

_"Aye, Shepard." _Replied the AI.

Jacob stopped just before the bottle reached his lips and lowered it. "Aye, Commander." He strode past the

table, setting the beer down in front of Nick. "Enjoy it..."

"If either of you want to come, hurry up." Shepard said to Nick and Vox, following Jacob to the elevator.

Nick looked over to Vox. "I'll take this one." He stood, sliding the beer Jacob had left him over to the turian.

"Too bad I can't drink it." Vox sighed.

"Eh. You can find someone to give it too." Nick shrugged,walking backwards toward the elevator.

"Cheers." Vox added sarcastically as the elevator doors swished closed.

Nick joined Shepard and Jacob, hopping over the threshold of the elevator. Shepard hit the close key followed by the key for the CIC. The elevator door hissed closed and locked, then the car began ascending. Nick glanced between them.

"So, we just have to pick up the doctor and then we scoot?" he asked, looking between Jacob and Shepard.

Shepard nodded. "After we get Solus, our next stop is the Citadel. My former CO told me he's trying to get the Council to see me, because they're flipping their lids over the rumors of my not actually being _dead."_

Jacob scoffed. "Fat chance of that. They're gonna wanna run and hide as far from you as possible."

"Yeah, probably." Shepard rolled her eyes.

Nick glanced between them again, then settled his gaze on Jacob. "You okay? You look sad..."

Jacob looked at Nick. "Hm? Naw, man, I'm not sad." He grinned. "Just tired. Been a long few days."

Shepard looked at Jacob as well. "You don't have to come along if you'd rather get some rest. I can manage with Zaeed and Nick here."

Jacob shook his head. "I'm good, Commander. Ready to rock and roll."

"You sure?"

Jacob nodded. "Positive." Then he looked at Nick. "I don't think we've been properly introduced. I'm Jacob Taylor." He held out his hand.

Shepard smiled a bit.

Nick hesitated, then reluctantly reached out and shook Jacob's hand. He eyed him warily and Shepard knew exactly what he was thinking. This guy doesn't seem like your average Cerberus crony. But looks were deceiving. Always.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Nick O'Neil. Most people don't like me..." he stated in a matter-of-factly, either consciously or subconsciously leaning slightly away from Jacob.

Jacob chuckled. "Then Kelly'll _love_ you."

Shepard cackled under her breath. Nick glanced at her, then looked at Jacob again. "I'd keep Jacob along with the mission. I may be a good medic, but I'm a mediocre soldier." He stated.

A few moments later, the elevator doors hissed open. Shepard, Jacob and Nick filed out.

"Do you usually bring total strangers with you on dangerous missions? 'Cause if you knew my history, you'd reconsider..." he said.

Jacob chuckled. "I'm not on good terms with the Alliance, either."

"They give you the boot too, or you quit?" he asked, leaning onto a nearby railing. "Cause I'm lucky not to be in the brig."

"Long story short, we had a disagreement and I got a discharge." Jacob said, gesturing with his hand as he spoke.

Shepard leaned on the edge of the small desk attached to the CIC that held her private terminal. "I don't really have a choice. I have to give everyone here the benefit of the doubt or I'd be setting myself up to fail. Doesn't mean I trust any of you yet. The only people on this ship whom I fully trust are Garrus, Joker and Chakwas. The rest of you have to earn it."

A few minutes later, the elevator doors opened again and Zaeed sauntered over to them, geared up and ready to go. "Ready to get some more killing done, eh, Shepard?"

Shepard flashed a brief grin. "Yep." Pushing off the desk, she strode toward the elevator. "I'll be right back."

"What is it with you people and your fascination with killing? I mean, I'm no saint, believe me. I've had to use a gun more than once." He let out a frustrated chuckle. "But you people seem to fantasize about it." He looked back and fourth between the three Cerberus crew members. "...aaand now you know why I was booted from the Alliance. Well, at least part of the reason..."

Zaeed grinned. "Zaeed Massani. Bounty hunter. Killin's what I do best."

Nick grumbled under his breath. "Yeah, and people like me are stuck cleaning up the messes people like you make..."

Shepard disappeared for a while, leaving Nick's question standing. He continued to wander around the CIC, looking over the shoulders of various crew members. After a few moments, Shepard reappeared, dressed in full armor and holding another set of medium armor and a weapon. She helped him put on the armor, pulling some of the straps uncomfortably tight.

"Go grab your jump kit," she said. "We'll wait here."

Nick strapped on the belt, and holstered the pistol. "You'll have to supply one. Mine is back on Omega. Didn't have time to grab it once the shooting started." He fiddled with the armor plates on the inside of his forearms, a frustrated look on his face. He popped them both off, letting the plates clank to the floor. He kicked them aside. "Won't be able to do shit for medical procedures if I can't bend my wrists." He moved his hands around in the air, freed up a bit now that some of the armor was gone.

Shepard looked down at the discarded pieces of armor. She stepped over to them and plucked them up. "They should be articulated at the wrist..." she said, testing the wrist joints between the gauntlet and bracer.

They were stiff. Pulling off her right gauntlet and sticking it under her arm, she scratched at the wrist joints of the armor in her hands with her thumb. Gunk of some kind flaked off. She sighed, then threw the pieces of armor at Jacob's chest. He caught them with a soft grunt, then checked the joints himself.

"I thought I cleaned these..." he muttered.

"Double check your shit. My team isn't safe if their gear is damaged, stiff or dirty." Shepard told him, pulling her gauntlet back on and snapping the enviro-seal closed.

"Yes, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am. I'll be right back." Jacob replied, hurrying into the armory.

Shepard looked at Nick. "Chakwas is the CMO. I'll go get a jump kit. By the way, I only kill when I have to."

She disappeared in the elevator and went down to the crew deck, using the time she took to get a jump kit from Chakwas to check on Garrus. He was still snoring away, buried in blankets. Shepard thanked Chakwas for the jump kit, then went back up to the CIC. Jacob was already there with a new set of bracers and gauntlets.

_"These_ are clean. So you'll have full articulation. But you don't have to wear the gauntlets if you'd prefer your hands being bare." He said, unsnapping the enviro-seals and pulling the armored gauntlet gloves off the bracers.

"Its okay." Nick whispered. "I hate wearin' those things anyway. Here, just-" He looked for a place to hide them, but was cut off before finding one.

Shepard stopped next to Zaeed and held the jump kit out to Nick. "Here. Chakwas loaded it, so it should have everything you need. But we can stop and pick up your other kit after we get Solus."

"Good... I hope I can pick up _my_ kit... The thing is my good luck charm." He took the pristine jump kit from Shepard, swinging it over his shoulder.

Shepard checked her weapons and armor seals again, then circled the CIC, walking toward the airlock behind the cockpit. Joker spun his chair halfway around to see them off.

"See you, Commander. Don't forget to get me that souvenir you promised me!" he called.

Shepard laughed. "See you, Joker!" she called back.

Zaeed was right behind her as she strode with purpose down the entry hall of Omega toward the main door. Nick and Jacob weren't far behind.

So where are we headed, Shepard?" Zaeed inquired.

Shepard slowed enough to let the main doors open before they reached them. "Down to the slums to pick up a salarian doctor."

"By the way..." there was a click as Zaeed checked the clip in one of his guns, "how's your turian friend doing?"

"He'll be on his feet again by tomorrow." Shepard replied, smiling a little to herself.

Zaeed made a sound in his throat. "Tough son of a bitch."

Shepard let out a short laugh. "You have no idea."

"Tough, and lucky." Nick added, following them to the airlock. "A couple inches to the left, and that rocket would have shot right down his throat."


	5. Ain't No Way but the Hard Way

_Whew... This chapter is a monster. Thanks again to my co-author, deviantart user ilikeshinkobjects. I wouldn't be able to do it without ya! _

* * *

"I told you to get lost, lady!" a turian guard could be heard saying, "The plague has the whole zone quarantined! Nobody gets in!"

A woman, standing in front of the guard looking quite annoyed, was having none of it. She folded her arms and sneered. "I'm human, you ass! Humans can't get the plague! Now let me get my stuff out before looters get it!"

Shepard, Nick, and the rest of the group slowed, listening to more of the conversation.

The guard went on, "This thing affects every other race out there! We're not taking chances. Nobody gets in until the plague has run its course."

Shepard stepped forward. "There's a salarian named Mordin Solus in the slums. I've got to get in there to find him."

The guard and woman both looked at her. "The doctor?" the turian asked. "Crazy bastard opened a clinic in the district a few months ago. The Blue Suns weren't too happy when he moved in. I hear Mordin's trying to deal with the plague. I wish him luck, but the area's still locked down. Our orders are to wait until either the plague or the Blue Suns kill everyone, then go in and clean up."

Shepard took a couple steps closer. "Take a good long look at me. Do I look like a looter?" she growled.

The turian leaned back. "Uh...no."

Shepard nodded. "That's right. Now, I'm going in. If I find looters, I'll kill them. Anybody else gets in my way, I'll kill them too."

The guard looked a little scared. "I'll call the guards. They'll let you in with no trouble." He said quickly.

The woman stepped forward. "Wait, you're stopping me but not them? You son of a bitch!"

The guard gave her a look. "You don't have a grenade launcher, lady. Get lost."

She folded her arms, staying put. Shepard passed her and the guard, tugging her pistol out of its holster as she opened the door to the slums and began descending the stairs.

"Damn..." Nick shook his head after listening to the exchange. "And I thought I was supposed to be the asshole here."

The stench wafting up was appalling, getting stronger with every step further into the slums. Shepard choked and coughed, covering her mouth and nose with one hand.

"Jesus Christ," Jacob hissed, also covering his face.

"Don't worry, you'll get used to the smell eventually. Only took me a couple of months."Nick sucked in a deep breath and sighed, a smile on his face. She looked at him like he was just a _little_ crazy.

Zaeed grunted. "I've smelled worse."

"Sure ya have." Nick nodded quickly.

Shepard shook her head and faced forward, descending the stairs. There were tall stacks of crates at the end of the hall. Thermal clips were scattered about the floor and on some crates, so she checked them. Half were spent, but the rest were good. She passed them around and packed a couple into the ammo packs on her hips, then moved on. As they approached a barricade, she heard the click of weapon safeties being flicked off and brought her pistol up, but one of the guards spoke up quickly.

"Don't shoot, they're cleared to come in!" he hissed. He was turian. All the guards were.

Shepard lowered her pistol and raised a hand to the guards in greeting. They lowered their rifles and nodded in return. She led the way through the area, leaving the guards to their business, and approached a door. The casually-dressed turian guard nodded to them.

"Good luck in there. The Blue Suns and vorcha are shooting anything that moves." He said. He sounded a little hoarse and looked exhausted.

Shepard flicked open a pouch on her gear belt and tugged out a box of medigel packets, passing it to him. "Here...go take care of yourself."

He took the box in a trembling hand and smiled tiredly at her. "Thanks..."

She patted his shoulder and gave him a light, encouraging shake, then passed through the door, glancing back to see if Nick stopped to help the guard. She waved Zaeed and Jacob on ahead and they passed her, lifting their weapons to the ready.

The human medic did what Shepard had expected. "Get some sleep man, you look wrecked." He commented, pausing to talk to the guard. "See if one of them can fill in for a couple of hours." Nick motioned in the direction of the checkpoint they had just passed. "And if you feel yourself getting sick at _all_, get to Mordin's clinic... I hear he's close to a cure."

The turian nodded mutely, then walked off, calling for one of the guards at the checkpoint to take over his post. Nick watched him go, then turned and walked toward Shepard, casually tugging his pistol from its holster. When he came up beside her, Shepard started walking. He seemed rather...nonchalant, considering where they were and that they could be jumped at any moment without warning.

"So..." Nick kicked a spent thermal clip, sending it clattering along the floor. Shepard winced at the sound. "You want me to lead the way? Or do you guys know where you're going?"

Shepard tapped the side of her Archon visor. "EDI provided a map. We know where we're going."

Zaeed and Jacob waited for her and Nick, then hung back, letting her take point again. She brought her pistol up to the ready, Jacob and Zaeed moving to flank her and Nick and keep their blind spots covered. They passed through a short corridor and the stench that had wafted up from the stairwell when they first entered the slums increased a hundred fold as they entered a large common area. They passed dead bodies along the way and saw two large raised platforms that may have been planters for trees and flowers at one point, but were now filled with burning bodies. Jacob made a hard sound in his throat.

"Leaving people to die in the streets, burning bodies... What a shithole." He muttered.

"I've seen worse," Shepard and Zaeed said in unison, then looked at each other. Zaeed grinned wryly.

"Just what I need... To be stuck with a bunch of meat heads who constantly try to one up each other... And _I__'__ve_ seen way worse than this." Nick muttered under his breath as his eyes scanned the familiar walls of Omega, completely aware of the irony in his last statement.

He tightened the grip on his pistol, a nervous feeling creeping up on him. The long open hallway had gone completely silent, save for some far off clanging noise that echoed perpetually through the station. Just as he turned back to look at Shepard, the piercing sound of gunfire ripped apart the silence. Basic training took over again, and Nick dove for the closest crate in front. Something caught his arm, forcing him back behind a different set of cover. He lost his balance, landing hard on the metallic ground. His left elbow took the brunt of the impact, sending a jolt of tingling pain down to the tips of his fingers. The firefight gained in intensity quickly, weapons fire pinging off of all the nearby walls. Shepard and her two Cerberus cohorts made quick work of the threat, downing the mercenaries in a few quick, although intense, moments of gunfire. Nick poked his head over the crate, a shell-shocked look on his face.

"You okay?" Shepard asked, offering him a hand up.

"No... All thanks to you." He stood on his own, nursing his arm. He shook the limb out as the pain subsided. "Let's get going before I get shot again." Nick grumbled, adjusting the position of the jump kit slung over his shoulder.

And then he was off, hopping over the bodies of the mercenaries and taking point down the corridor. Shepard sighed and wiped a hand over her head. She chased Nick down and grabbed his shoulder. Zaeed and Jacob were close behind.

"Fall in line, O'Neil. Run off ahead of the group and you bet your ass you'll be ganged up on and shot again." Shepard told him, swinging around in front of him and planting a hand on his chest.

Nick scoffed, his mouth hanging open. He may have agreed to help, but he didn't agree to get ordered around. "You know my history-" his voice became low as he leaned in closer to Shepard. "-staying 'in line' isn't my specialty." He slowly pushed her arm off of his chest, careful to not do it too aggressively. As much as he didn't like bowing to authority, Nick disliked getting a black eye a bit more.

The rest of the journey Nick went without talking to the rest of the party, save for the necessary battle related communications when they ran into more gangsters. The slums had become much worse, even in the two short days he had been away. More dead bodies, and more warring factions. It seemed, now that Archangel was out of the picture, they all went right back to fighting amongst themselves. Nick wasn't sure what was worse: The gangs continuing to fight each other, or if they had stayed united after Archangel was gone.

There were half a dozen more fire fights, confrontations with a pair of looters and two fearful refugees before they reached the clinic. Shepard cleared a path to the clinic and the refugees followed in their wake. The clinic was busy and the staff was snappy, ordering her to go talk to Mordin because they themselves were too busy to talk. Somewhere in the clinic Shepard heard the distinctive speed-of-light speech of a salarian and followed it to the source.

"Professor-we're running low on cipoxidin," a male voice spoke up.

"Use malanarin. Plenty on hand. Almost as good. Causes cramping in batarians. Supplement with butemerol." A higher-pitched male voice answered, running all his words together.

"Malanarin and butemerol. Got it."

Shepard rounded a corner and entered another section of the clinic. A russet-skinned salarian dressed mostly in white with accents of grey, red and black stood over a patient. Nurses flitted around him like hummingbirds and a man rushed by to get the drugs Mordin suggested.

"Cenozine is the catalyst. Bonds to genetic markers. Hard to find. Expensive to mass produce. Why not helpacore?" the salarian went on. "Too unstable. Inconsistent results. Demozane better option. No. Demozane toxic to humans. Not an option. Not an option."

He seemed to be talking to himself. She found it amusing.

"Damn, does this guy ever stop for breath?" Jacob asked quietly. Zaeed sniggered.

"No." Nick commented flatly. "You'll just have to get used to that, too."

Shepard approached the salarian and stopped a couple feet away. "Professor Mordin Solus?"

He stepped closer, clear nictating membranes flicking over his eyes. "Nicholas, good to have you back. Was worried when you failed to return. Where is Vox?"

"We ran into some pissed off Blue Suns." Nick walked over to one side of the room as he spoke, casually sitting in an open chair and tossing his kit down on the ground. "Vox is okay...the Commander here was nice enough to bail us out."

The salarian smiled at Nick, then looked at Shepard. "Now, to greetings. Curious. Don't recognize you from area. Too well-armed to be refugees. No mercenary uniform. Quarantine still in effect." He turned and strode over to a computer terminal, typing a few things. "Here for something else. Vorcha? Crew to clean them out? Unlikely. Vorcha a symptom, not a cause. The plague?" he walked back over, "investigating possible use as a bioweapon? No. Too many guns, not enough data equipment. Soldiers, not scientists."

Behind her, Jacob and Zaeed shifted, muttering to each other. Nick stifled a snicker. Shepard advanced on Mordin, his rambling edging her just a little closer to insanity.

"For the love of God, take a breath! I came here to find you, okay? I'm Commander Shepard, I'm on a critical mission, and I need your help." She said quickly, trying to keep her voice down.

Nick smiled. He could see Shepard's blood pressure rising from across the room. He knew the Doc was hard to work with sometimes, but it was entertaining to watch someone else deal with it.

Mordin backed away. "Mission? What mission?" he shook his head. "No. No, no, no. Too busy. Clinic understaffed. Plague spreading too fast. Who sent you?" he squatted down out of sight.

"...mother of-" Shepard refrained from pulling her own hair. "Ever heard of an organization called Cerberus?"

Mordin stood. "Crossed paths on occasion. Thought they only worked with humans."

"This mission reaches far beyond human interests, Professor. We all have to work together-to take down the Collectors." Shepard explained.

The smile quickly left Nick's face as Shepard explained the nature of their mission. It was more serious than he had thought-Shepard would have questions to answer when they got back to the _Normandy_.

Mordin's brow furrowed and he crossed his arms, tapping his fingers on his chin. "Collectors? Interesting. Plague hitting these slums is engineered. Collectors one of few groups with technology to design it. Our goals may be similar. But must stop plague first." He walked back over to the computer terminal. "Already have a cure. Need to distribute it at environmental control center. Vorcha guarding it. Need to kill them."

Nick glanced down to his new Cerberus issued medkit. He scowled, picking up the kit and tossing it onto one of the nearby supply shelves. His old one had to be on the station somewhere. It was his good luck charm, it had been in his possession since he graduated from the Alliance medic school.

Shepard pressed her thumbs into her temples and rubbed in circles. Her patience was wearing thin. Her entire body throbbed and she was running on grit her teeth, feeling a little bit like a scolded child. Just then, the fans shut off, the turbines winding down with a dropping whine. Everyone looked up. Shepard covered her eyes with one hand, then hung her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. _Nothing_ was going as planned. "Just once I'd like to ask someone for help and hear them say, 'Sure. Let's go. Right now. No strings attached.'" She sighed.

A clang drew her attention to Nick. He was pulling his arm back from a follow-through extension and she glanced at the shelf. He'd thrown the jump kit Chakwas put together onto the shelf. Then he stood up and walked toward the door.

"Huh...I never pictured you as that kind of gal," he said as he passed. "Got some personal business to take care of. I'll meet back up eventually. If you need me, give me a ring." He held up his arm and shook it a bit, his omni-tool lighting up, and then disappeared through the door.

"What?" Shepard spun. "O'Neil!" she ran out into the hall, but he'd disappeared into the crowd of patients and staff. "O'Neil! _NICK__!_" she charged through the crowd in the hall, but couldn't find Nick. "God damn it!"

"Could never control that boy," Mordin's voice came. Shepard turned and looked at him sharply. "Always did what he wanted, when he wanted, how he wanted. Started many fights. Vox always finished them."

"I swear to _God_, I'm going to _kill__him_ when I find him." Shepard growled.

Nick shot a couple of glances over his shoulder, making sure the Commander didn't follow. Once he was confident she had stayed behind, he paused, flicking on his omni-tool, consulting a map of the area surrounding the clinic. He found the spot where the Blue Suns had ambushed him and Vox. It wouldn't be smart to go there first, it still could be under mercenary control. Wracking his mind, Nick tried to think of the most likely locations of his old kit. The Suns could have taken it with them, leaving little or no chance of actually finding it. Or, someone could have sold it at one of the local shops. Maybe a scavenging vorcha had pawned it for a few credits.

Nick turned off his omni-tool, taking off to the markets. He shoved his way through the crowds once reaching one of the main passageways on the station. Only a short time away from the station, and he already found almost everything about Omega repulsive. The slums were worse, that was certain, but the other areas seemed just at unappealing after spending some time on a nice ship. Maybe he shouldn't have left Shepard at the clinic-she might just leave him behind stuck on this hellhole of a space station.

The crowds were a bit thinner in the markets, but just as frustrating. Nick shoved his way past the store fronts. Everything imaginable was for sale: from models of the galaxy's most famous ships, to magazines depicting some rather explicit inter species relations.

"Forty credits?" Nick spun his head toward the hoarse, distinctive voice of a vorcha. He slid his way past a few more bodies, the vorcha coming into view. It held Nick's kit in one hand, motioning in the air at the krogan store owner with the other. "Forty credits too low!"

"Son of a bitch..." Nick mumbled under his breath, trying to get closer to the vorcha.

"This thing is junk. No one will want to buy it." The krogan store owner protested. "Thirty credits. No more."

The vorcha growled, frustrated. "Thirty-five credits! No lower!"

"Uh... Fine, thirty-five credits." The krogan typed a few keys on his terminal, transferring the necessary credits.

"Wait! Wait, wait!" Nick stammered, reaching the counter.

The vorcha hissed loudly. "What human want? Doing business! Go away!"

The krogan looked annoyed. "What do you want, human?"

"That kit... It's mine. It was...stolen." Nick stated breathlessly.

"Ha!" the krogan grunted. "Do you think I am stupid, human?"

Nick half nodded while he caught his breath. "Well, the krogan do have a reputation... But that's beside the point. I really need it back." He gestured dismissively, then pointed at the kit and put one fist on his hip.

"I can sell it to you, if it will get you to leave me alone." The shop owner offered, leaning forward onto the counter and patting the top of Nick's kit. "One hundred credits."

"What? This asshole just sold it to you for thirty-five!" Nick motioned to the nearby vorcha, who growled at the human's comment.

"I don't barter with humans... One hundred is the price. You can take it, or you can leave." The krogan leaned even further over the counter of his shop, a devious grin on his face.

"Fine." Nick spat, moving for his credit chit. It took longer, as he had to maneuver a hand underneath the armor he wore. "Humans don't get any respect at all..."

"You're right about that. You're below the vorcha in my book." The shop owner moved over to his computer terminal, ready to process the transaction.

Nick tossed his credit chit down on the table, and timed his next move perfectly. There wasn't any money on his account, there hadn't been for the past few months. Once the krogan took his hand off of the med kit, the medic lunged forward. He grabbed the kit, turned, and smashed the nearby vorcha in the face with one of its flat edges. The vorcha let out a horrible screech as Nick pushed his way through the surrounding crowd, getting stares and odd looks from the various races. He could hear the krogan yelling after him, and extended his hand in a rather impolite gesture as he disappeared from view.

"Medical emergency." Nick announced to the bouncer at the Afterlife club. This wasn't an uncommon occurrence, so the bouncer casually nodded him in. He checked over his shoulder as he went down the flaming hallway, making sure he wasn't being followed. He pushed past some of the seated patrons at the bar, stopping when he found an empty seat of his own.

"Can I help you with something?" a human bartender approached, eyeing Nick as he threw his kit up onto the bar counter and started rummaging through it.

"Nope." Nick answered without looking up. Most of his supplies were intact. The vorcha must have not bothered with even opening it. He sat back in the stool a little bit and sighed, snapping the case closed. "You know what? Get me a beer."

"Sure thing." The bartender smirked as he lit a cigarette, puffing on his way to grab a glass.

"I have somewhere really important I should be right now..." Nick let out a nervous chuckle. "I really don't want to go... But I really need to."

"How better to decide than over a drink?" the bartender's cigarette bobbed in his lips as he spoke.

Nick shook his head slowly as his drink was placed in front of him. He took a sip. "Nah... This is probably a bad idea..."

The air was heavy and hard to move through the lungs by the time Shepard and her Cerberus operatives had reached the environmental center. They'd found Daniel being held hostage by angry batarians and Shepard had convinced them to let Daniel go in exchange for letting them go free. She hoped he'd made it back to the clinic alright.

Getting to the control room was easy enough, once they made it through the Blood Pack; Zaeed sported a bullet hole in his thigh, Jacob had been on the business end of a flame thrower for a few seconds, and Shepard nearly got her face smashed in by a marauding krogan. Her visor was cracked, she was pretty sure her nose was broken, her jaw was stiff and the right joint popped every time she opened her mouth. She didn't think the krogan had hit her _that_ hard...

Getting the fans re-activated after injecting the cure into the environmental system was harder than she initially expected. The vorcha came in wave after wave and another krogan blocked the way to the second fan. The vorcha were easy enough to kill, but Shepard ended up thrown against a wall by the krogan when he charged. They fought hand-to-hand and they seemed evenly matched in regards to physical strength. Shepard was shocked at her own strength, but the surprise was short-lived.

A serrated blade punctured her armor and sank deep into her side. Pain turned her vision white. There was a metallic snap and then Shepard let loose an explosion of biotic energy. The krogan was launched clear to the far side of the control room. The remaining vorcha didn't last long after that.

Shepard got the second fan re-activated, made sure the krogan was dead and then made her way back to the clinic. She would drag that salarian to the _Normandy_ kicking and screaming if she had to. Halfway to the clinic, she started feeling dizzy and had to slow down. Looking down at her side, she saw at least three inches of snapped-off metal jutting out of her armor. There was a blood groove down the center of the blade and blood was following it, dribbling out in a steady stream.

"God damn it..." she hissed.

Zaeed came up beside her and took her arm, pulling it over his shoulder. She glared at him, but leaned on him anyway and let him help her back to the clinic. If Nick was in the clinic when she got there, she was going beat him into the floor and shoot him in his other leg.

Nick was on his way to the clinic, having left Afterlife soon after downing his single beer. It had been a stupid decision, at least he could admit that. Luckily, the bartender was nice enough to give him the drink on the house, as thanks for his work at the clinic.

He continued down the corridor, flipping through his omni-tool as he went. He breathed with an open mouth into his hand, trying to make sure the scent of alcohol was gone from his breath. Shepard would have no mercy if she found out...

Looking back up, he almost bumped into a hunched over figure. It was Zaeed, and he was helping an injured Shepard along. They were only a short distance from the clinic.

"Christ! What happened?" he surprised the group, stepping around in front of them. His eyes widened when he caught sight of the blade protruding from Shepard's armor, blood oozing out from around the sides. "Hold up a second-" he ordered, doing a scan with his omni-tool to see if it was safe to continue to the clinic, or if Shepard should stop moving.

Shepard jolted in surprise and yanked her pistol out of its holster, whipping it up and aiming it at the center of Nick's chest when he popped around in front of them suddenly. He held out a hand to stop them, his other hand coming up as he scanned Shepard with his omni-tool. Zaeed's arm twitched, his hand going to the pistol holstered on his hip. A biotic aura flared around Jacob for a brief few seconds.

Zaeed returned his hand to Shepard's wrist. "Bloody hell, boy. You should learn not to surprise people with guns."

"Had plenty of chances to learn that, I don't think its gonna stick..." Nick shot a glance at Zaeed, continuing on with his scan.

Shepard kept her pistol up. "Where the _fuck_ were _you_?" she seethed.

Her eye was swelling shut and her jaw joint was beginning to freeze, also due to swelling, making it hard to speak. She suspected her jaw might also be broken. More and more pain was wracking her sore body and Nick's abrupt desertion of the group had burned her temper fuse down to its last millimeter. Behind her, Jacob kept quiet, but he did come forward and lay his hand on her wrist gently. Her eyes flicked to him. He shook his head almost imperceptibly. Shepard returned her gaze to Nick and glared hard at him, then spat a mouthful of blood, flicked the safety on her pistol and shoved it back into its holster with a little more force than necessary.

"I said I wanted to pick up _my_kit," Nick twisted slightly, showing off the worn and dented Alliance jump kit that was slung over his shoulder.

Reaching out, Shepard grabbed the collar of Nick's armor and yanked him nose-to-nose with her. Her voice was a low, raspy hiss when she spoke, "You've warned me repeatedly about your problem with taking orders. I don't _give__a__shit_ about your issues with authority. I give orders to keep my team alive and working as a cohesive unit and if you _ever_ abandon the team again or disobey my orders, you not only endanger yourself, you put the _entire__team_ at risk. The team is only as strong as the weakest link. So tell me, O'Neil, _what_ did you do wrong?"

Nick swallowed and took a deep breath, his mind frantically searching for an answer that wouldn't get him killed.

Vox wandered aimlessly around the _Normandy_ after Nick had left on the mission with Shepard. To say he was antsy was an understatement. There was a wealth of information around the ship, from talking to the crew, to scanning the Cerberus information databases for anything that could be interesting. Only he found that it was impossible to sit still for more than two minutes before he would return to pacing, the crew members staring at him all along the way.

It could have been for a million reasons-Nick being out on a mission without him. Eagerness to talk with Archangel-Garrus, actually-who was still lying comatose in the medical bay. But most of all, he couldn't shake the feeling that is was all a dream. The feeling that, at any moment, he'd wake up back on the hellhole of Omega.

Vox eventually settled down at a table on the mess deck. He held the piece of armor that bore the Archangel insignia in his hand, turning it over slowly. After a few minutes, he heard the medical doors open from behind. He didn't look up, assuming it was Chakwas or one of the other medical staff.

"Hey..." Vox heard a hoarse turian voice, at the same time one of the chairs to his left moved. He almost jumped a little when he noticed it was Garrus, but was able to maintain his composure.

"Oh-Uh, hey." Vox stammered. He got a good look at the other turian. Garrus was in bad shape; his face was covered in bandages and swollen. He wore a thin pair of hospital pants, and was wrapped in a blanket.

"You look like shit." The words just came, he didn't mean to say them. "Sorry." Vox quickly apologized. "Vox Castus." He held out a hand, giving Garrus a quick chuckled to himself. "We've both been spending too much time around humans..." he commented, referring to the human greeting he had just used."I only know you as Archangel... Unless there is something else you prefer being called."

Garrus laughed softly, then hissed in pain and gingerly touched the bandages on his face. "Ohh...I _feel_ like shit..." he groaned. Then he took Vox's hand and shook it. "Garrus Vakarian. Just call me Garrus." He pulled his hand back, pulling the blanket a bit tighter around his shoulders. "So how did you end up here? Shepard doesn't let just anybody on the team, much less on the _away_ team..." he paused. "Hold that thought...I've gotta piss."

_"__The__men__'__s__restroom__is__on__the__port__side__of__the__ship__, __Mr__. __Vakarian__. __The__food__replicator__has__also__been__recalibrated__to__produce__dextro__-__amino__acid__compatible__food__and__drink__."_ Came an even, slightly monotone computerized female voice.

Garrus jerked sharply in surprise, then cursed and doubled over slightly. He must have broken ribs and internal bruising on top of everything else... "Who are you?" he hissed.

_"__I__am__EDI__, __the__ship__'__s__AI__."_

Garrus looked up. "Oh...great. An AI..." he muttered, hefting himself to his feet with a small grunt.

Memories of the rogue AIs he'd taken down before with Shepard floated across his mind as he shuffled past an elevator to the port side of the ship. The door to the bathroom opened as he reached it and he shuffled to the nearest urinal, unbuttoning the fly of his pants.

He washed his hands under hot water afterward and shuffled back out to the mess, wandering into the kitchen to play with the food replicator. He scrolled through the machine's list of dextro-amino-based food and chose a fruit from Palaven.

"So, you were telling me how you ended up here?" he prompted Vox again, eyeing the fruit the replicator spit out. It looked a little...deformed.

"How I ended up here? Long story..." Vox sighed, turning his chair slightly so he could see Garrus. "Well, you know you saw me and Nick-the human that I shot-on Omega. A few weeks later, we're captured by the Suns and sold to slavers. The slavers try and ship us out, Shepard comes to the rescue. Now I'm here." Vox motioned to his surroundings, and then let his arms fall back to his sides.

"I'm not sure what Shepard sees in us... Nick only went with her because he's familiar with Doctor Mordin." Vox paused for a few seconds, choosing his words carefully. "I'd ask you the same question. About ending up here. Nick told me you were on the first _Normandy_?"

Garrus picked up the slightly deformed fruit and brought it to his nose, sniffing it. It smelled okay... "Yeah, I served on the SR-1 with Shepard. I'd been with C-Sec before, chasing leads on Saren Arterius. Saren was a Council Spectre that went rogue, leading the geth insurgency into the galaxy. Since Saren was a Spectre, even the air he breathed was classified so I was stonewalled and strangled by red tape wherever I looked for evidence of his betrayal. Saren was a turian, so I took his actions personally..."

He sniffed the fruit again, then took a bite out of it. The moment his teeth punctured the skin, it exploded in his mouth. It tasted like it had been rotting in a composter for weeks. He choked and sputtered and doubled over the sink, spitting out what he'd bitten off. Then he threw the fruit into the actual food composter and stepped over to the replicator, flinging open a panel on the wall above the screen.

"Calibrated my pale, scaly ass..." he muttered, pulling the tablet computer out.

It was hooked up to a spiderweb of wires connected to the replicator's motherboard. Squinting, he started re-calibrating the machine to make _food__._

"Anyway... I took Saren's betrayal personally, but I couldn't do anything with my hands tied by so much bureaucratic red tape. Then Executor Pallin closed my case. Spirits, I was so angry. I met Shepard on my way out. _She_ was on her way up to see the Council about Saren. Her luck wasn't any better than mine, but a quarian had damning evidence. After seeing it, the Council made Shepard a Spectre, because only a Spectre can hunt a Spectre. She's the first human Spectre in history, and she asked me to join her team." He let out a little laugh at the feeling of nostalgia. "I can't tell you how excited I was; hunting a war criminal across the galaxy with a Spectre and no C-Sec regulations to get in the way... It was great." He sighed wistfully, then laughed again.

"Man, she had a way of pissing off a lot of the crew. Navigator Pressly _hated_ me, Wrex, Tali, and Liara. A turian, a krogan, a quarian and an asari. The only humans on her team were Kaidan Alenko and Ashley Williams. But after months of hunting Saren, we all trusted each other. Pressly and Wrex were pretty good friends, Tali and Joker were close and the entire engineering deck practically worshipped Tali, Liara was friends with _everyone_... Shepard and I were joined at the hip."

He finished calibrating the food replicator and stuffed the tablet back into the wall socket, then slapped the panel closed and chose the fruit out of the list again.

"Eventually, we learned that it wasn't Saren controlling events, but a Reaper called Sovereign. Saren was being manipulated by it, bent to its will by something called indoctrination. Just being in the vicinity of a Reaper leaves you open to its indoctrination. Liara's own mother was a victim...Matriarch Benezia. Wrex and I were there with Shepard at the end, on the Presidium. She convinced Saren of Sovereign's true agenda and what was happening to him, and he redeemed himself by committing suicide...but Sovereign took control of his body and made him into a husk."

Garrus took a bite out of the fruit. This time it didn't explode and tasted good. Nodding in satisfaction, he ordered another fruit from the replicator and grabbed it when the machine spat it out. Turning, he shuffled over to the table and offered the second fruit to Vox as he sat down.

"Sovereign was destroyed, Saren was dead, the geth were eliminated and the galaxy was saved... But it wasn't enough. The SR-1 was shot down, Shepard was declared killed-in-action and everything we worked for was shit on and buried." Garrus shook his head bitterly and swallowed his mouthful of fruit. "A fucking insult. I still don't know anything yet, but it has to be bad if these people-" he made a vague gesture at the ship, indicating Cerberus, "-have Shepard running around..."

Vox accepted the offered fruit, but didn't eat right away. "I know the Normandy's history, but not yours specifically... I hadn't made the connection in my head that Garrus of the Normandy was the same person as Archangel." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Hell, I even had a model of the SR-1 in my place on Omega. Must have been interesting, working with so many other races... I was pretty sheltered until later on in my hierarchy career. Didn't actually work-if you could call it that-with a human until my second to last year. To be honest, I didn't like them. Feelings passed down by my parents. Sure, I feel different now... But I'm still a bit worried about being on a Cerberus ship. It was actually during one of the first attacks the geth carried out that wasn't inside their space... It was a couple years before Sovereign showed up, but something tells me it was connected."

Vox paused, turning the fruit over in his hands. After a few moments, he looked up.

"I meant to ask you about Shepard. Did she just go missing? Or was she actually killed?" he asked, legitimately interested in getting an answer. "Oh, and this belongs to you." He held up the worn piece of armor, its insignia facing Garrus. "Nick took it to show me after you were brought into the medical bay."

Garrus took the pauldron in his other hand. It was stained with his blood. "You know...I really don't have a clue. The Alliance listed her KIA, but...she's here. I don't _get__it__._ I was accepted into Spectre training after reconstruction began on the Citadel, and barely a month into my training I got word that she'd been killed. I tried to stick it out, but then the Council and the Alliance started taking apart everything we'd worked for, everything _she__'__d_ worked for, calling her a liar without ever outright _saying_ it. I couldn't stand it. I left. Whether or not she actually died..." he shrugged. "Only she can tell us."

He set the pauldron down on the table, flicking the tip of a claw off the edge. He bit into the fruit in his hand and chewed, giving himself time to think. Vox seemed eager to hear his story, so he took a speaking breath.

"I pissed off Executor Pallin and my own father with my behavior-not that he was proud of me in the _slightest_ for being accepted into Spectre training. I'd followed in his footsteps, going into C-Sec hoping to make a difference. But he is strictly by the book and I... Well, I'm _not__,_ let's put it that way. He detests the Spectres with every fiber of his being and I envied how they were allowed to work; they got the job done and it didn't matter how. C-Sec didn't work that way and at times it was endlessly frustrating." He paused long enough to eat another bite of fruit. "But Shepard was a Spectre, and after everything she'd done for the good of the galaxy, they were running a damned _smear__campaign_..."

Garrus tilted his head, thinking back to all the Star Trek he'd watched with the crew during downtime on the SR-1. How would Spock have put it? Oh, right. "I was emotionally compromised. Every syllable out of the Council's and Alliance's collective mouth pissed me off more and more, so I packed my bags and left.

"Went to Omega. First, to drown my anger in whiskey. Then, I decided I'd try to make a difference. I worked alone at first...but then people started coming to me and before I knew it, I had an entire team. Two years we kept the innocent safe, and then..." he trailed off abruptly and looked at the fruit in his hand. Sidonis. He shook all thoughts of Sidonis and his betrayal out of his mind and bit into the fruit again. He chewed and swallowed, then looked at Vox. "You understand why I turned you away, right?" he asked, studying the young turian before him.

"I do now..." Vox turned the piece of fruit over in his hand again. He wasn't hungry at all. "But then... Let's just say I wasn't happy about it." He thought for a few moments, staring off at nothing in particular.

"I kind of did like you did, in reverse order. I showed up on Omega with a goal and I was driven to accomplish that goal. Nothing short of death would stop me. Then..." he shrugged. "Then I tried to drown myself in whiskey." He took a deep breath. "It wasn't your fault, but facing that denial was the slight push that sent everything crashing down. Everything that had been thrown at me... Everything that had been taken from me. I thought there was nothing left in the galaxy..." Another long pause and deep breath. "At least there was one person-" Vox stopped abruptly when he noticed his voice had started to shake. He straightened himself out in his chair, clearing his throat in the process.

"I'm just glad to be here now." He started again, having regained his composure. "I know Shepard doesn't really trust me, or even really know me yet. But I would be honored to be part of the _Normandy_'s crew. Cerberus or not." Vox took a bite of the fruit, slowly chewing it. The flavor pleasantly surprised him; maybe he had been more hungry than he had felt.

Garrus listened to Vox while he spoke. He'd lost someone. He wouldn't ask who it was... It would open old wounds and Garrus' own old wounds were raw and bleeding again. It was a dull yet raging hurt that no one deserved to endure.

"It takes some time to earn Shepard's trust. She didn't fully trust me until a month had gone by. She needs a team, though, so you can expect to be on the away team. Prove yourself to her, and she'll keep you around." Garrus nodded, then winced, his hand going up to his face. "Am I bleeding?" he asked, looking at Vox.

"Maybe a little bit..." Vox studied the other turian's swollen face. To be honest, it was hard to tell, and Vox wasn't the most comfortable with giving medical advice. "Maybe you should have the doc take a look at it." He suggested, standing and motioning to the medical bay.

Before Garrus had a chance to stand, the elevator opened, followed by angry sounding footsteps. Nick rounded the corner, looking particularly more enraged than usual. He threw his kit down and it landed with a loud clang against one of the table legs. Taylor and Mordin followed with a Commander Shepard in between them, one of her arms over each of their shoulders. They slowly led her into the medical bay. She was still conscious, but looked to be in a good amount of pain. That's when Vox saw the end of a large blade jutting from the side of her chest, the front of her armor stained red.

"As soon as she gets that blade yanked out of her-" Nick spat, pointing a finger at the two turians, "-all of us are having...a talk." He stormed off to help Chakwas in the medical bay, shaking his head and muttering a constant stream of profanity as he went.


	6. The Truth Hurts

Nick pulled on a pair of gloves, flicking through a quick scan of Shepard's wounds on his omni-tool. The knife was in a bad spot, just missing the bottom of her lung, and almost tearing apart the diaphragm. Then again, it could have been much worse. Maybe if he got to work she'd forgive him a bit more later on...

"Before we do anything, she's getting happy meds..." Nick mumbled under his breath, barely audible over the commotion going in in the medical bay. He threw together a quick IV setup, setting a rather large needle in the Commander's arm, and started a constant flow of pain medication.

Chakwas grabbed some tools and bandages and tubing, dumping them on a tray and setting it near the bed, within easy reach. "Mr. O'Neil, Doctor Solus, let's get this knife out of the Commander, shall we?" she said, pulling on a pair of nitrile gloves.

"Hurry it up, will you?" Shepard ground out between clenched teeth.

"Alrighty then..." Nick took a look at the knife, now freed from Shepard's armor, but still buried deep in her side. She already had a large pocket of air gathering in her chest cavity, it wouldn't make it any better waiting around to remove it. He reached down with a gloved hand, appearing at first just to be inspecting the knife. In an instant, he pulled the blade, tilting it back slightly so that there wasn't much pressure on the serrated edge. He tossed the bloody blade aside, it landing with a clank on one of the nearby tables. He clamped down a gloved hand on the wound, making the best airtight seal as possible.

The painkillers made her body feel heavy and her head feel like it was full of cotton, but when Nick yanked the knife out without so much as a 'here we go,' Shepard felt it like she wasn't on painkillers at all. Pain turned her vision white and the scream she let out made even Garrus flinch. She was positive the _entire__ship_ heard it.

Nick clamped his hand down on the wound and leaned in close. "Can you still breathe? 'Cause if the answer is anything less than 'perfectly,' you're gonna need a chest tube to get rid of the pressure on your lung."

Shepard looked at him and blinked through the pain. She could see the beads of sweat on his forehead and this close she could smell the beer on his breath. She bared bloodstained teeth and the breath she took wheezed and rattled loudly.

"You were _drinking__?_" she hissed.

"I only had one..." Nick fumbled with some medical equipment with his unoccupied hand. "Had to blend in at the bar, stole my kit back from one of the merchants... I'd be of _no_ use to you if I'd been killed by a pissed off krogan and a pissed off vorcha."

"That doesn't sound good," Garrus said, regarding her breathing. "Shepard, look at me."

Shepard tore her glare away from Nick and looked up at the turian hunched over her. "What?" she rasped.

"Can you breathe?" he asked.

"Not really," she hissed, then sucked in a wheezing gasp of air that rattled conspicuously. She turned her gaze back to Nick. "But I'm still going to kill you."

"Huh... Makes me really wonder why I'm still here then..." he mumbled, glancing around the medical bay.

Mordin appeared suddenly, brandishing a pair of bandage scissors. "Must remove sensor-mesh suit first. Obstructing wound. Must also check for suit material in chest cavity. Broad-spectrum antibiotics also a good idea; blade was unclean."

Shepard refrained from thrashing about on the bed and thumped the back of her head on it instead. "God...damn it," she gasped.

"Wh-Y-you're the god damned doctor here! You see something that needs to be done, just do it." Nick stammered angrily, glancing at his omni-tool again to take another look at Shepard's lung. "Two damned doctors here and the only one being any help is the damned half-dead turian. No offense." He nodded at Garrus.

It was getting harder and harder to breathe and her arms and legs were feeling tingly. She held tighter to Garrus' hands and closed her eyes, concentrating on moving air in and out of her lungs. Breathing through her mouth, the rattly, wheezy sounds were all too obvious. Squeezing Garrus' hands, she wondered when the pain would end. She wondered when her life had become _this__._ And she wondered _why__..._

Nick worked quickly, quitting his gripes as the two doctors began to preform their own tasks. Mordin clipped off the sensor-mesh undersuit, and Chackwas began administering a dose of antibiotics through the IV. The medic sealed Shepard's wound with medigel, freeing up his other hand to put in the chest tube. He picked up a scalpel Chackwas had set out a few moments ago, positioning it over the Commander's side.

"Okay, this'll hurt like hell for a couple seconds, then you're gonna feel amazing." He warned only a moment before plunging the smaller blade into her skin. He quickly set the tube and secured it in place with some more medigel, again checking the status of her lung on his omni-tool. It was already starting to reinflate.

Shepard uttered a colorful string of profanities when the scalpel cut into her side somewhere near her armpit. Garrus held her arms down with remarkable strength, considering his present state. She clutched at his elbows, taking in a sharp gasp when the tube went in. All of a sudden, it was easy to breathe. She took several deep breaths and closed her eyes. Something was placed over her nose and mouth and she opened her eyes to see Garrus holding an oxygen mask to her face.

"Feeling better?" he asked, letting go of her arm to smooth her sweat-damp hair back from her forehead.

She nodded, feeling too numb and heavy to speak without slurring. She could also feel her jaw locking up, but the painkillers were starting to take full effect now that the adrenaline was wearing off. She let her eyes drift closed and opened them slightly a few moments later when she felt Garrus tipping her head from one side to the other. His clawed fingers gently probed her jaw and she winced, jerking away sharply. He held the sides of her head and stroked her temples with his thumbs.

"Shh... Sorry. Hey, kid. I think her jaw's broken." He tipped her head to the right. "Look at the bruising and swelling."

"I know," Nick sighed, pushing away the cart that was covered in spent medical supplies. "Hm. Kid..." Nick grumbled, discarding his gloves into a nearby bin. The injured turian didn't mean anything bad, Nick just didn't like being viewed as a "kid".

"His name's Nick..." Shepard muttered, lowering her arms gingerly.

Garrus lifted her head and pulled the spin pin from her hair, tugged her locks loose, then gently laid her head back down. His fingers combing through her hair was the last thing she remembered before passing out.

Garrus held the oxygen mask to Shepard's face again and looked to the medical team surrounding them. "She better be unconscious from the drugs and not a concussion."

"Probably both." Nick was rummaging through some cabinets, turning his head back to talk.

Chakwas pulled over some equipment suspended from a track in the ceiling and gently but firmly nudged Garrus aside. He moved out of the way and watched while Chakwas, Nick and Mordin worked on Shepard. Chakwas positioned various parts of Shepard's body and then scanned them with the equipment, bringing up the results on a handheld tablet slightly larger than a datapad.

"Hyperextended knee, bruised ribs, broken fingers, broken jaw, mild concussion...minor epidural bleed." Chakwas handed the tablet off to Nick.

Garrus shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "_Epidural__bleed_ isn't a comforting pair of words..."

Mordin prepped various tools and drugs at salarian speed and spoke just as fast. "Bleed is minor, nothing to worry about. Treatment simple trephination to aspirate blood accumulated between dura mater and skull."

Garrus shook his head, trying to process the salarian's run-on words. "Trephi-what?"

Mordin plucked up a scalpel in his nimble three-fingered hand. "Drilling a small burr hole into the skull to drain the accumulated blood and relieve pressure on the brain."

Garrus balked. "_What__?_"

"Oh, doc! Can I do this one? I've never had a chance to use the drill before." Nick exclaimed, excitement in his voice. Garrus looked even more shocked and was at a loss of words. He stood, looking back and fourth between the two doctors, hoping they would deny Nick's request.

"I'm just kidding man, lighten up." The human chuckled, shaking his head. "A damned combat medic doing brain surgery? Ha!" He let out a genuine laugh before quieting. "It's not as scary as it sounds, trust me. Much better than it used to be just a couple hundred years ago. They used to take this drill, looked like a freaking power tool, and remove a whole chunk of the skull.. Damned medieval medicine..." he shook his head, realizing he was getting carried away. "She'll be on her feet in twenty-four hours." He added, trying to erase any damage his previous comments might have caused. "You still need me?" he looked at the two doctors as he leaned on a nearby empty bed.

"No. But you can start cleaning up, Mr. O'Neil." Chakwas accepted the prepared tools from Mordin and got Shepard's head situated.

"Right. Back to my med school days... Get to scrub the equipment after it gets used. Fantastic." Nick muttered, pulling on yet another set of gloves before he touched anything that had been contaminated. He made his way busily about the the medical bay, cleaning up any bodily fluids, sterilizing everything, and replacing any equipment that had been used. He smiled to himself when he heard Mordin start up a small drill. After being put back together piece by piece over two years, this procedure was nothing compared to what she had already been through.

Nick had wanted a chance to talk with Garrus, but the turian had nodded off in a chair. He looked between the sleeping turian and the unconscious Shepard on one of the beds. They seemed close, that was for sure. Closer than any human and turian he had ever seen before.

Chackwas woke him. She smiled. "You should rest, Garrus."

He rubbed his left eye groggily. "But Sh-"

"The Commander is fine, Garrus," Chakwas interrupted, taking his arm and pulling him out of the chair gently. "Come on." She led him to a bed, and administered a mild sedative.

"I'll have some of what he's having." Nick quipped. He was ignored by the doctor, who went about checking on Shepard again. He finished off his cleaning duties, stripping the gloves off of his hands. "I'm all set here... Going to find a pub."

He made a quick walk right over to the elevator, making sure to avoid eye contact with other members of the crew. Vox was bound to be around somewhere, but Nick wasn't in the mood for talking with him either. He wasn't even sure what was really bothering him. Shepard might be mad at him, that was true, but he could handle the angry yelling of a superior. It was something else... The atmosphere on the ship felt downright creepy. Like the crew members knew something important that they were not letting him in on. It was weird enough that Cerberus had decided to have a mixed race crew, but Nick had a feeling it went deeper than that.

He wandered about the ship again, not exchanging any more than a casual nod with others that he passed. Some seemed friendly enough, smiling and opening their mouths to talk, only to have Nick offer them the cold shoulder. There was an especially chatty pair in the engineering area that seemed extra offended to have their attempt at conversation ignored.

A few hours later, and Nick still hadn't found his pub. The only thing he didn't do while trying to find it was simply ask another crew member, or even ask the ship's computer AI thing. He was still in a sour mood, like always. He exited the men's restroom, wandering back out into the mess area. He threw himself down in a chair, away from the other members of the Cerberus crew. Vox had disappeared somewhere, and Nick didn't care to find him right now. He wasn't in the mood to listen to the turian scold him about his behavior towards the Commander and other "superior" officers. Nick glanced around the room again. His heart skipped a beat when he saw a groggy looking Shepard stepping out of the medical bay. He stood, turned away from her, and tried to escape to another part of the ship before she saw him.

"O'Neil!" she called, following closely after him.

His shoulders jerked up sharply when she called his name. She caught up to him and grabbed his arm at the elbow. He flinched.

"You want a drink?" she asked, just a little caustic.

"Why not?" Nick gave up on his attempt to flee, putting on a fake smile. Her grip on his arm scared him, he didn't dare try to pull away. "I was looking for a pub anyways."

Shepard all but dragged Nick to Port Observation and left him standing by the large window while she went over to the bar and grabbed two glasses. She sorted through the various bottles lining the shelves and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. She poured a measure into a glass, picked it up and walked back over to Nick. The dark amber liquid threw flashes of gold everywhere from the lights in the ceiling and the stars outside were reflected in the whiskey.

"Joker, let's get out of here." She said. She knew the pilot was watching.

_"__Where__to__, __Commander__?"_ Joker replied promptly.

Shepard ran through her "to-do list" in her head. Keeping her gaze on the medic before her, she raised the glass in her hand toward her lips. "Horizon."

Joker didn't immediately reply. He was likely checking his starmaps. Then, _"__Aye__, __Commander__. __ETA__, __six__hours__."_

"So," Shepard took a small sip from her glass and swilled the whiskey over her tongue for a few moments before swallowing.

The whiskey burned going down and she bared her teeth with a brief hiss. Lowering the glass, she swirled the amber liquid and watched the light play in it. After a moment, she lifted her gaze to Nick. Swiping her tongue over her lips, she leaned against the railing below the observation window and regarded the medic. He looked nervous. Shepard kept her face impassive and let her voice reveal nothing.

"You wanted to talk?"

"Talk... Yes." Nick cleared his throat nervously. "I know I've acted like a bit of an asshole lately-hell, that's just me-and I can understand why you'd be pissed off." He went to the bar and reached for an empty glass of his own, searching through the countless bottles that lined the shelves. He picked a bottle of something that he hadn't heard of before, and gave it a whiff. The smell burned his nose. "This won't kill me, will it?" He asked, pouring himself a little bit before receiving an answer.

"I'd just like to know the true nature of your mission before myself and my associate get involved too far. Cerberus working with aliens, and an Alliance Commander that's supposed to be dead. Something doesn't smell right." He lifted the glass to his face. "And its not my drink."

Shepard continued to watch him impassively. He was putting on a facade of confidence, but his trembling hands and constant glances toward the door screamed about his level of nervousness. He was afraid she'd beat him to death before anyone could come to his rescue. Shepard didn't mind letting him stew...but his question was valid. If he and Vox were gonna be sticking around for the long haul, then they had a right to know the details about what exactly it was they were getting into.

"EDI." Shepard took another sip from her glass.

_"__Yes__, __Shepard__?"_

"Would you send Vox Castus and Garrus Vakarian to Port Observation, please?"

_"__Yes__."_

"Thank you, EDI."

_"__Of__course__, __Shepard__. __Logging__you__out__."_

Shepard moved over to a seat near the bar and sat down. She wondered how to go about giving them the details of this mission. Short and to the point, probably. Turians appreciated that sort of thing but Nick? Well, either way, he might be scared off. Shepard took another sip from her glass.

"You should probably sit down, Nick," she advised, staring out the observation window. The stars were moving slowly, like passing cars on a freeway, and the colorful, breathy wisps of an FTL tunnel were drifting lazily past.

"Sit down? I don't need to sit down." Nick griped as he sat in one of the nearby stools. "And I'm sitting because I was going to anyway, not because you mentioned it." He took a cautious sip of his drink. Its flavor was even stronger than its smell suggested. He coughed as it burned its way down his throat.

"Egh." He cleared his throat. "Tastes...fishy." An eyebrow lifted as he stared into the glass, swirling its contents around. "Krogan, maybe?" He took another drink, this one much bigger than the first. He shuddered. "Yeah...krogan. Tastes like shit, but it'll get me hammered in no time."

There was the sound of a door opening, and the brighter lights of the hallway poured in for a moment. Nick looked up to see Vox walking in, a mildly confused look on the turian's face as he saw Nick and Shepard.

"Vox." Nick waved him closer. "Come have a drink."

The turian glanced back and fourth between him and Shepard. She was looking out the window, still in a robe from the medical bay. He slowly approached the bar.

"I'll have a glass of water."

"Okay, but before you do, try some of this." Nick slid the glass over. Vox looked at the dark brown liquid, reluctantly taking a whiff.

"Smells like... A nightclub restroom on Omega." He pushed the glass back to Nick.

"No it doesn't..." Nick took the glass back, a look of disbelief on his face. He sniffed it again. "You're right." Nick put the glass back down, his features instantly going flat. He looked a bit queasy. "Where's the beer?" he asked, turning his head towards Shepard.

Shepard turned her head and looked at Nick. He looked a little green. "There's a tap, I think." She replied.

Nick looked over, seeing the tap. He selected a familiar human beer, pouring himself a large glass. He quickly took a couple of large swigs, eager to get the taste of the krogan liquor out of his mouth.

Standing, Shepard went over to the bar and took down an empty glass, filling it with crystal clear, cold water from the hose next to the beer tap. She wondered if a bartender had designed the bar as she took the glass over to Vox and held it out to him. As she grabbed her own glass and sat back down, the door opened again and Garrus came in. He was naked except for a pair of flimsy white pants and a blanket he had wrapped himself in.

Shepard stood and helped him to a chair. "Do you need anything?"

He let out a soft grunt as he sat down, then relaxed back into the chair. "I'm fine, Shepard."

Standing back, Shepard looked at the three men in her company. She frowned and downed in one the whiskey in her glass and then set the glass aside. Licking her lips, she came to stand near the observation window. Garrus and Vox watched her curiously and Nick eyed her warily, his expression serious.

"Nick asked me a question and all of you deserve to hear the answer, as you're the only crew members on this ship who don't know what it is we're doing here," she began. Shifting from one foot to the other, she started pacing slowly. "As you already know, I was rebuilt over the past two years by Cerberus. When I woke up, I had a little chat with the Illusive Man. He told me the sole reason I was brought back was to investigate the disappearances of entire human colonies in Terminus space.

On Freedom's Progress, I recovered evidence from a stricken quarian who was the sole survivor of an attack on that colony. Every human had been abducted. By Collectors."

"By who?" Nick blurted out, already pouring himself a second beer. The taste of his previous drink was proving difficult to get rid of.

Garrus raised his hand. Bandages around his torso peeked out from under the blanket. "Wait-Collectors? I thought they were just a myth."

Shepard tilted her head and made a small gesture with her hand. "So did I, but they were caught on surveillance by the quarian abducting the humans on the colony."

"What about signs of a struggle?" Garrus piped in again. "Didn't they fight back?"

Shepard shook her head. "No. What we saw on the colony, it was like everyone just got up and left in the middle of dinner. The Collectors use something-some kind of insect. It stings you and you're paralized, and then the Collectors take you."

Garrus shook his head slightly, sitting forward. "Why wasn't the quarian taken?"

Shepard stopped pacing and leaned against the wall. "The Collectors are targeting humans."

Garrus frowned and sat back again, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. He glanced at Nick and Vox, then returned his attention to Shepard.

Shepard pushed a hand through her hair and sighed, searching for words for a moment. "I don't know why the Collectors are abducting humans, but I know it has something to do with the Reapers. I can feel it in my bones." She paused, glancing at each man in front of her. "It was the Collectors that killed me. The Illusive Man brought me back to stop them. But even if I _hadn__'__t_been killed, I would take it upon myself to stop them.

"And I'll tell you right now that this isn't only about humans. If the Reapers _are_ behind this, then the entire galaxy is in danger. This is about _everyone__._ This, in all likelihood, is a suicide mission. We may not survive. But I need your help. I can't do this alone."

Garrus shifted in his chair and his mandibles clicked. Shepard couldn't tell if it was in wry amusement or something else.

"You realize this has me walking into hell with you, right?" he said, looking up at her.

Shepard flashed a mirthless smile, then frowned. "I know, but I wouldn't ask you to be at my side unless

I needed you."

Garrus smiled at her. "I'll follow you to the end of the universe, Shepard. You know that, too."

Shepard nodded, her throat feeling tight. "I know." She whispered.

After a moment, she looked at Vox and Nick. "Now you know what's going on. What do you say?"

Nick and Vox both said something at the same time, their voices obscuring each other. Nick made a motion with his hands, indicating for the turian to speak.

"I'll help." Vox said, looking back and fourth between Shepard and Garrus. "And I don't believe in the idea that this is a "suicide mission". No way we would know that until we're dead, right?" As soon as he finished speaking, Vox motioned for Nick to talk.

The human was in mid gulp of his beer, before mumbling something in the drink. He set the glass down, swallowed what was in his mouth, and cleared his throat.

"The Collectors? Have we gone completely insane here? You're crazy if you think they even exist, you're even crazier if you can think you are capable of stopping them." He looked at all of the faces staring at him from around the room, and chuckled nervously. "Hey, listen, if I see a Collector myself, then I'll reconsider." He figured that would probably be never, thinking everything he knew about the alien race he considered mythology and hearsay. "But if I ever _do_see one... You can bet your ass you'll never see me on this ship again."


	7. Beating Around the Bush

Shepard stood outside the open hatch of the Kodiak. Garrus, Vox, and Mordin were already on the shuttle, waiting. They were waiting on Nick and Shepard's patience was wearing thin. Pulling a small packet of high-protein granola from a pouch on her gear belt, she tore it open and poured some into her mouth.

"Five more minutes," she said, looking into the packet and counting the granola chunks. "Five more minutes and then I'm leaving his skinny white ass here."

"I don't think he would mind being left behind. He seems a little flighty," Garrus chimed in. "You got any water?"

Shepard finished off the granola and stuffed the empty packet back into the pouch she got it from, then pulled a water bottle from another on her hip, tossing it to Garrus.

"Thanks." He said.

"Mhm." Shepard checked the chronometer in her omni-tool. "Two minutes."

"Nicholas will be here," Mordin said. "Conscience drives him. Makes him a good medic."

"Maybe. But, like Garrus said, he seems a little flighty. Not to mention he said if he ever saw a Collector, we'd never see him on this ship again." Shepard remarked.

Shepard checked the chronometer again. Those two minutes were up, so she pushed off the side of the Kodiak and boarded, closing the hatch behind her. Garrus handed her water bottle back to her as she passed him and stepped into the cockpit. She pushed the water bottle back into its pouch and snapped the strap closed as she sat. Reaching up to the ceiling control panel, she flicked some switches and started up the shuttle's engines, then ran through a pre-flight checklist.

Piloting a space shuttle was really no different than piloting a submersible. Both were atmospherically sealed and used similar directional controls. Propulsion systems were different, but that didn't really matter.

"All systems green. We're ready for flight." Shepard said, reaching up to open a comm channel to Joker

to tell him to open the cargo bay door.

"Wait a minute, Shepard. The lift door's opening." Garrus said.

"Hey! Hey!" Nick jogged over to the shuttle as its engines fired up. He banged on the door, hoping someone would open it. After a brief moment, it slid open. Nick tossed his kit in, not caring to make sure no one was on the way before he hurled it, then hurriedly climbed into the Kodiak, slamming the door closed behind himself.

"Sorry, I was-" he paused, holding his breath as another brief wave of nausea passed over him. "I was uh.." he finally found the correct harness straps, and belted himself in. "Busy with the... Whatever." His eyes darted over the passengers in the back of the shuttle. "What are we up against on the surface? Or do we still not have any idea?"

"You didn't read over the briefing files?" Vox answered.

"Of course I read the damned files. All they told me is that the other human colonists have gone missing, and that the 'Collectors' use some kind of insect to incapacitate people... But that's okay, 'cause we have some shields, that have never even been field tested, that we're supposed to trust with our lives. I don't know about you, but it still feels like we're going in blind."

"Huh..." Vox chuckled.

"What?" Nick prompted, absently pulling the safety harness straps tighter.

"Nothing... I'm just surprised you actually read the files." The turian shrugged.

Shepard chuckled at Nick and Vox and ran through another quick flight check, making sure the hatch was sealed, then opened a comm to Joker. "We're ready to go."

_"__Aye__, __Commander__. __ETA__to__drop__, __two__minutes__."_ Joker replied.

Shepard leaned over looked back at everyone in the cabin. Nick was looking a little green, still. She chuckled and sat straight. "You need a puke bag, O'Neil?"

There was a sequence of beeps, and then Mordin saying, with no small amount of worry, "Radiation levels very high. What did you consume, Nicholas?"

Shepard cackled. "He had a taste of ryncol, Doctor."

Mordin tutted. "Bad idea. Ryncol dangerous to non-krogan. Here, take this. Will counteract effects and eliminate nausea."

"Ryncol? Wh-why didn't you warn me? You saw me pour it into the glass." Nick motioned to a few of the others in the cabin.

"Don't look at me." Vox glanced up from his rifle. "Plus, it was pretty damn funny."

"How do I know _this_ is safe?" Nick took a lozenge from Mordin, ignoring Vox's smart remark. His eyes darted back and fourth between the lozenge and the salarian for a couple of moments, a weary look plastered on his face. Nick popped the lozenge into his mouth. "Mmhh... It tingles." He spoke, holding the lozenge in one of his cheeks. The taste wasn't bad, almost pleasant. But he couldn't compare it to anything.

After leaving the cargo bay of the Normandy, everyone was quiet for a few moments. A slight bump caused Nick to grab onto a nearby rail. It only seemed to spur Garrus and Shepard into a discussion about their previous days together.

"I'm still waiting for them to invent a transporter... We wouldn't have to-" Nick paused as the shuttle hit another pocket of turbulence. "-deal with all of this crap."

"Transporter?" Vox asked.

Nick looked at him. "Another Star Trek reference, Vox. You need to watch more classic human television."

None of the crew responded to his comment. They seemed to be frozen, staring out of the view ports. Garrus mumbled something under his breath. Vox tilted his head, looking down to the planet's surface. There was a ship-like nothing he had ever seen before-hovering directly over the Horizon colony.

"What is it?" Nick strained to see, tilting his head. Vox sat back into his seat, giving Nick a full view out of the window. "What...the..._fuck_...is that?" He didn't get an answer.

"I hope your shields work, Doc." Garrus said.

_Me__, __too__..._ Shepard thought. She increased speed to get to the colony faster, then slowed down and deployed the air brakes as she maneuvered the craft in to land. When the shuttle touched down, she cut the engines and popped the hatch, pulling her assault rifle off her back as she moved out into the cabin. Garrus and Mordin were on their feet, weapons ready.

"Garrus, on my six. Mordin, Vox, cover flanks. Nick. Stay close to Vox. I don't want a Collector picking you off." She said, checking her rifle's thermal clip and then flicking the safety off. Then she stepped out of the shuttle and brought the weapon up. "Safeties off, weapons hot. The Collectors are here. Shoot to kill."

"Don't see any other reason for shooting someone." Nick hopped out behind the others, his nerves masked by sheer adrenaline. He pulled his pistol from its holster, flicked off the safety, and held it firmly at his side.

The air swarmed with huge insects and Shepard held her breath as she led the group forward. The insects spiraled and wheeled around, skimming close enough to touch yet avoiding them completely. Shepard carefully let out her breath, hoping the bugs weren't drawn to carbon dioxide, but they continued ignoring them.

She threw a glance over her shoulder at her team, then faced forward and led them through the first courtyard. She communicated with hand signals and then whispers over their group comm unit when she realized that Vox might not have been completely familiar with human military hand signals.

Ducking down into a half crouch, she moved forward and took cover behind a waist-high garden wall. Sidling to the end, she waved Garrus to another garden wall thirty feet away on the other side of the walkway. She waved Mordin over to Garrus, then waved Vox and Nick over to her position. She trusted Mordin and Garrus to work together without argument, and though she didn't doubt Vox's abilities, she wanted to keep an eye on him personally. And she wanted Nick glued to Vox just so he wouldn't get shot.

Sending a glance over to Mordin and Garrus, she saw they were peeking around the top and side edges of their garden wall shelter. Cautiously, she peeked around the edge of the garden wall at her shoulder. Dark humanoid shapes moved about on the far side of the courtyard. Two passed between a nearer set of garden walls. Shepard caught her breath. In her ear piece she heard Garrus mutter a turian curse.

The Collectors were man-sized and humanoid with a dark, mottled yellow and burnished gold insect-like carapace. Their heads were distinctly insectoid with two sets of eyes and no discernible mouth, and their limbs were also distinctly insectoid. Some carried bizarre weapons, some seemed to have wings, and others were transporting hovering pods of some kind. The two that had passed close by were transporting a pod between them.

"Suspect Collectors transporting victims in pods," Mordin's whisper hissed over her ear piece.

"Makes sense," Shepard whispered.

"Orders?" Garrus hissed.

"What's your count?" Shepard asked him.

"At least a dozen, maybe more," he answered. "My eyepiece is getting conflicting life sign results. It can't decide if they're human or 'unknown.'"

"Fuck." Shepard hissed. "Engage." Standing, she brought her rifle up, selected a target and random and opened fire. "Engage, engage!" she repeated.

Garrus swapped his sniper rifle for his assault rifle and stood, opening fire with a throaty yell that bordered on excited. Mordin leaned in and out of cover to pop off expertly aimed shots with his pistol. Beside Shepard, Vox popped up and opened fire while Nick stayed down, hunched low.

Behind her, Shepard heard the buzzing of large wings at the same moment the HUD in her visor indicated a target.

Nick crouched low, the stream of profanities coming out of his mouth drowned out by the sounds of battle. He peeked out a few times, only to be duck back down when a few rounds pinged off of his cover.

"Contact rear!" Shepard bellowed. Nick snapped his head around, seeing a few of the creatures appearing from behind. One of them raised its rifle at Vox, the turian unaware of the imminent danger. Nick jumped to his feet, brought the Carnifex pistol to bear, and squeezed the trigger. He kept his grip steady, walking forward as he emptied the pistol into the Collector.

Suddenly, the gunfire ended. Nick's ears were ringing, and the only other things he could hear were his heart pounding and his pistol hissing. He took a deep breath, let it out, and ejected the overheated thermal clip.

Several flying Collectors swooped in and Shepard launched a biotic shockwave at them. Some were knocked off their feet but the once that were still airborne were unaffected. Cursing, Shepard vaulted to the other side of the garden wall and ducked down. Vox followed suit, all but dragging Nick with him. In between bursts of gunfire, shouted orders, directions and curses, the Collectors buzzed and clicked to each other.

The fight was over as quick as it started and for a moment, Shepard just stood there and breathed. Garrus walked over to her and touched her shoulder. She looked up at him.

"How are you holding up?" she asked.

"I'm fine, Shepard." He answered with a nod.

Turning, Shepard took stock of any injuries, then moved on. As they moved further into the colony, the seeker bug swarms thickened and as they passed through a deserted outdoor eating area, Joker's voice burst over the comm line, heavily laced with static.

"Commander, we're getting ma-et-interfe-nce!" he cried, sounding only slightly worried. "-can't maint-n th-signal!"

"Collector ship disrupting communications." Mordin said.

"Shit..." Shepard led the team toward a housing or storage depot. "We're on our own."

Nick chased after Shepard and Garrus, shouldering past Vox and Mordin.

"What the _fuck_ were those?" he managed, approaching Sheppard and Garrus. Before any of them could answer, he heard the Commander mutter something about them being on their own. "What do you mean 'on our own'? They get the _Normandy_ or something?"

Shepard looked at Nick. Beads of sweat glistened on his brow and his pupils were dilated with adrenaline. He was tense and shaking, but seemed otherwise okay. Shepard handed him a new thermal clip for his pistol.

"Those were Collectors. Their ship is disrupting communications. We're cut off." She told him.

The buzzing of wings filled the air then and she turned her attention skyward, bringing her rifle up and bracing it against her shoulder. More flying Collectors were swooping in and they had different weapons than the others they encountered. Golden light bubbled at the ends of a few weapons and Shepard's eyebrows went up, a memory of the Collector ship that attacked the SR-1 flashing across her mind.

"Aw, shit," she muttered.

"They're bringing in heavies!" Garrus cried.

"Cover! Cover! Cover!" Shepard shouted, diving behind a stack of crates with Garrus.

Mordin dropped behind a divider wall and Shepard searched for Vox and Nick before standing and leaning out of cover to fire at the Collectors. Garrus employed his sniper rifle this time, picking them out of the sky before they could land. When the airborne Collectors stopped coming, he switched to his assault rifle and they moved forward to different cover in tandem.

"Castus, O'Neil, cover flanks!" Shepard barked. "Solus, take point! Vakarian, on my six!"

Mordin came sweeping out of nowhere and took point, Garrus put his back to hers and gunfire behind them told Shepard that Vox and Nick were doing what she told them. Then Shepard heard a sound she never wanted to hear again: the guttural moans of the galaxy's very own zombies.

"Son of a-_husks__!"_ she cried.

A husk came lunging, swiping at Mordin's face with its hands. Mordin fired two rounds into its chest and one into its head between the eyes. It dropped in a heap and continued twitching until Mordin fired two more rounds into its head. More husks came rushing and Mordin killed another. Shepard shot the legs out from under the rest and Mordin killed them.

There was a lull in gunfire, then the buzzing and clicking of Collectors filled the air. Shepard started to order her team to cover when a beam of golden fire tore through the air. She shoved Garrus behind a stack of crates and leapt after him, barely dodging the beam. She pressed her back up against the crates and ejected a spent thermal clip, but before she could reload, something collided with her hip. It felt like someone put their foot on her butt and shoved her.

She stumbled one step and her knee buckled, dropping her to her hands and knees. Garrus grabbed her shoulder and hauled her over to the wall the crates were piled against. Her arm went around his waist and she yanked him to her, making him yelp in surprise. Just then, another beam tore through the crates, skimming just past Garrus' back. He swung himself over her and sat beside her, one hand going down to his gear belt to pull a trauma kit from a pouch.

"What are you doing?" Shepard asked him.

"You're bleeding." Garrus said sharply.

"What?" Shepard looked down. Blood was sheeting from a hole in her armor. Her eyebrows went up. "Oh."

Then, suddenly, the gunfire was over. Mordin said something about that being the last one, then Garrus' hands were clamping down on either side of her hip. Shepard jolted sharply.

_"__AUGH__!"_ she cried out, mostly in surprise at the sudden shock of the pain shooting down her leg and up into her chest, taking her breath away.

"Where's Nick?" Garrus called. "Shepard's been hit!"


	8. Give Me a Bullet to Bite On

Nick was a couple dozen meters away, having just come face to face with a pair of husks. He hated the creatures ever since he had read about them, back when they were still just considered deep space superstition... Just like the Collectors. He ejected another thermal clip, inserted a fresh one, and leveled his heavy pistol at a husk that had been cut down in the firefight. It twitched, still trying to grab at his boots. With two loud bangs, the husk stopped.

"Nick!" Vox called.

"Yeah?" Nick snapped his head around. Vox was standing a few meters way, crouched behind some crates.

"Shepard is hit. You better get over there." The turian nodded in the Commander's direction, his gaze still scanning for targets.

"I'm on it. Just... Hold the perimeter." Nick's words were short and lacked their usual fire. The medic jogged over to Garrus, stopping when he could see Shepard down on the ground.

"Where're you hit?" he knelt down, and holstered his pistol. He pulled on one glove, and popped open the medkit before pulling on the other. "Come on, talk to me." He motioned with his hands, a very slight tinge of annoyance detectable in his voice.

"My hip," Shepard answered. "Garrus, move your hands."

He hesitated, but moved his hands. The blood-soaked gauze stayed where it had been pressed, but Shepard plucked it off so she could unclip her armor and free up her hip for proper treatment. Applying bandages on top of her armor would just defeat the purpose...

"Hey Solus!" Shepard called. "Give me some good news about those husks."

Mordin examined the nearest of the husks, looked around the immediate area, did some things with his omni-tool, then walked over.

"No husks creation spikes on colony. Collectors brought husks with them." Mordin said.

Shepard frowned. Bad news, but nothing she hadn't expected. "Great. No doubts about the Reapers now..."

"Shepard, can you move your leg?" Garrus asked.

Shepard looked at him, then down at her leg. She twitched her foot and rotated her ankle, then moved her knee a bit. Pain exploded down her leg from the point of her hip and made her see stars. She gasped, her hand going down to her thigh. She half nodded half shook her head. She could work through the pain. She'd fought her way through worse.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." She grunted.

"Shepard..." Garrus frowned.

"I'll live, Garrus." She said sharply, looking at him.

He glared at her. "You won't get far if you can't walk."

Shepard moved her hand out of Nick's way. "I can walk, I can run, I can race a fucking marathon."

"Cara, you're not superhuman." Garrus snapped.

The use of her given name made her flush hotly. He hardly ever used her given name. Just like she only used his clan name when she was giving orders or angry, he only called her by her given name when they were off duty together or if he was royally pissed at her. Judging by his tone and expression, he was royally pissed at her.

"Garrus. I still know my limits." She told him.

"No, you don't. Not since...since _this__,"_ he said, making a vague gesture at her.

"You just gestured to all of me." She said flatly.

"Yeah, because with your brand spanking new cybernetics, nobody knows what you're capable of or what your limits are. Not even you." He shot back.

"You know what, you're right," Shepard nodded. "But, for now, let's just assume that I'm not at my breaking point yet. I can _walk__."_

Garrus nodded. "Fine. But when this is over, you and I are having a little chat."

"Fine-_ow__!"_ Shepard flinched, looking at Nick.

Nick had his head down, focused on the wound through her hip. Shepard couldn't tell if he was forcing himself to hold his tongue, if he was smug or if he was ready to get up and hide behind Vox if she tried to hit him. Shepard kept her hands on the ground beside her.

"You got something to say?" she prodded, curious.

"Me?" he paused, looking up from the of Shepard's wound on his omni-tool. "I've got plenty to say, you know me." He cleared his throat, and chuckled nervously. "But the only thing I'm going to say right _now_ is that your wound is mostly superficial. Mostly soft tissue damage, and it may have scraped your bone a little... Nothing a little medi-gel won't fix."

"Everything okay over here?" Vox took a few steps over, casually holding his rifle up over his shoulder.

Nick rifled around in his kit for a moment. "Yeah, yeah. How's that perimeter thing going?"

"Mordin is keeping an eye out, told me to check on you." Vox replied.

"Check on me, check on _us_? Listen, I don't need to be babysat. If Mordin was concerned with Shepard, he would have come over himself. He is a damned doctor after all." Nick applied a dose of medi-gel to Shepard's wound, stopping the slow but steady flow of blood. He packed up a few of the supplies, pausing before he snapped the kit closed. "You want pain meds? Medi-gel has some but not a whole ton. Not sure what'll be more distracting; fighting through pain or fighting through narcotics. It's up to you."

"I'll be fine without them." Shepard answered.

"Suit yourself." Nick turned away briefly, snapping his kit cosed. He turned back, offering a hand to help Shepard up. Garrus was already there, practically stepping in front of him to get the Commander to her feet. It wasn't jealousy that bothered him, at least not the romantic type. It was exclusion-even after she had harped on him becoming part of the crew, he still felt like they were giving him the could shoulder half of the time.

"Alright," Shepard said, walking forward with only a slight limp. "Let's move out. O'Neil, Solus, cover flanks. Vakarian, Castus, on my six."

"Aye, ma'am" Nick sighed, checking his thermal clip before following. Vox merely acknowledged with a silent nod.

There were more attacks from Collectors as the team ventured deeper into the colony. They were only able to find one human that had not been frozen by the insects. He lay most of the blame for the attack on the Alliance; Nick nodded in silent agreement. He directed them to a central depot where a set of defense towers the Alliance had come to install were located.

The fighting got even more intense as they continued. Nick had never seen this many husks before, or even knew so many different forms of them existed. He managed to keep his mouth closed, while keeping a steady stream of fire on any target that presented itself. Even with a constant flow of fresh thermal clips, his pistol became steadily hotter, close to the point of burning his hand.

"I am so _sick__of__husks__!"_ Shepard yelled.

She ejected a spent thermal clip and shoved a new one into her rifle, then swapped it for the Collector particle beam weapon. The rifle had a hard kickback and vibrated as it fired, but the beam cut through the husks like a hot knife through butter.

"Yeeaaahh!" she laughed, grinning like an idiot. "Hahahaaa!"

"You're having way too much fun, Shepard," Garrus said over the comm, amusement in his voice.

"You _have_ to try this!" she shouted back over the loud hum of the particle beam generator. Garrus just laughed.

"I'd love to give one of those a try," Vox commented as he ducked behind cover, nodding at the Commander's new weapon.

"Like I said before..." Nick placed the red hot pistol down on the ground for a moment, shaking out his burned hand. "Never ceases to amazing me how you people revel in finding new ways to kill people."

Vox scoffed. "What do you mean 'you people'?"

"Shut up and keep killing." Nick picked up his weapon, loaded a new thermal clip, and unloaded into one of the husk creatures.

When the fight was over, everyone congregated near the control hub at the center of the depot where the defense towers were. Shepard looked at Nick.

"How you holding up?" she asked. "I know you were serious about taking off if you saw a Collector, but-I need you, Nick. Chakwas likes you, you have more field and trauma experience than the Cerberus idiots Chakwas was staffed with, but what I really want you to stay for is this," she held her arms out a little, then dropped them. "Patching up our sorry asses on the field and watching our backs. I need you on the team."

Nick cleared his throat, pausing to wipe a bead of sweat from his forehead at the same time. His head was still pounding, sending out waves of dull pain with each heartbeat. "Come on, Commander. This isn't the place for me. You saw how I was on Omega; you're looking for a team player. That's not me." His voice was low, almost a grumble, but still held its usual fiery tone.

Mordin nodded in agreement with Shepard. "No one I know, besides myself, with more field experience. Good at improvising effective treatment with available supplies. Would be very beneficial to team if you stayed."

"You heard what I said, salarian. I'd just get people killed." Nick snapped, irritated.

Shepard was about to say more when she heard what sounded like a hydraulic pump opening a heavy door. She looked up. Something enormous emerged from the Collector ship and flew toward them. Her eyes widened as it got closer and its shadow fell over them. It had crab-like legs and a vaguely beetle-like body and its belly hung loose, swinging as if on Bungee cords. Inside its belly were skulls with glowing blue eyes.

"What..." Garrus gasped, lifting his rifle.

"Ohhh, shit. _Scatter__!"_ Shepard cried.

She grabbed Nick and hauled him behind a stack of crates. Garrus and Vox went one way and Mordin went the other. Shepard took the Collector particle beam rifle off her back and shoved it into Nick's hands, then took her assault rifle off her back and checked the thermal clip. She peeked around the side of the crates they were hiding behind and not a second later, two blue fiery beams erupted from the monster's eyes, skimming just past the crates. Shepard reared back with a startled cry, one hand flying up to her face.

"What the hell?" Nick stared down at the strange weapon in his hands. He swiveled his head around, trying to make eye contact with any of the other team members. Shepard screamed. He instinctively stood, bring the Collector weapon to bear on the strange creature. He dove back behind a metal crate after a few seconds, as the creature pointed its own weapons in his direction.

"Just keep shooting at that thing," she said to Nick. "That rifle has some hard kickback and vibrates pretty strong so keep a tight grip on it."

"Good advice if I ever heard any." Vox quipped from his nearby position. Nick shot him a glance, before taking aim at the creature again.

When the blue beams vanished, Shepard leaned out of cover, brought her rifle to bear and opened fire. Garrus had some distance on the monster and loud rifle cracks signaled the use of his sniper rifle. Submachine gun and more assault rifle fire echoed in the air. The monster hovered from place to place, forcing them to move cover constantly. EDI kept them updated on the progress of the defense towers as the monster chased them around the depot, firing particle beams from its eyes and trying to flatten them under its belly when it got close enough.

The defense towers were at ninety percent when an exploding propane tank knocked Vox off his feet. The monster drifted toward him while he was stunned and Garrus tried to throw it off its course by firing slugs from his sniper rifle at its eyes, but it was unfazed. Shepard broke cover and sprinted toward Vox's position, a biotic aura flaring around her body as she fired at the monster while she ran. Fiery golden beams ripped past her while she ran and the monster shrieked in annoyance. But then it flared its crab legs and dropped. Vox rolled and the monster slammed into the ground just shy of his legs, but the tip of one of its feet hit home, piercing clean through his armor. Blue blood erupted from the hole when the monster lifted off into the air again.

_"__VOX__!"_ Shepard cried.

As she reached him, the defense towers came to life. One opened fire on the monster, killing it in three shots, and then it joined the other towers, firing on the Collector ship. Shepard knelt beside Vox and set her rifle aside, her fingers making quick work of the safety clips on his chest plate. She pulled the armor off and tossed it aside. Blood spilled from Vox's shoulder and she yanked his trauma kit off his belt, ripping open a packaged bandage. She pressed the bandage pad to the hole in his shoulder and put her weight behind it, leaning forward on her knees while she clamped her hands down on his shoulder.

"What happened?" Nick shouted, dropping the Collector weapon as he ran over. He knelt next to Shepard, leaning in over the injured turian. "Shit..." he quickly pulled on a pair of gloves, continuing to swear under his breath.

Garrus and Mordin came running as the Collector vessel powered up its engines. Shepard looked up, and then the ship fired its engines. Hurricane-force winds buffeted them as the ship began lifting off. Shepard bent over Vox's head, shielding him from flying debris.

"They're pulling out!" Garrus shouted. "There's no reason to stay. Most of the colonists are on board...they got what they came for." He added as the ship rocketed into the sky, the flare of its engines the only thing visible of it.

"Vox!" Nick shouted, gently pushing Shepard's hands aside as he took over putting pressure on the wound. "Vox, talk to me." The turian didn't respond. "You've had worse than this before, wake up." Vox sputtered, but no coherent words came out. "God damn it." Nick was genuinely worried now. "Shepard, take over again." She obliged, putting her own hands back over the wound. He did a quick scan on his omni-tool. The light coughing noise Vox made grew louder and gained in intensity. It grew into a light chuckle.

"What?" The turian managed to ask between laughs, fighting back a grin.

"You asshole," Nick snapped angrily.

Vox's brow ridges went up. "That's what I get for being injured?"

"We nearly thought you were done for." Nick continued his scan. "Don't move. That thing severed an artery in your shoulder. We'll have to clamp it before we move you... And I think I forgot to bring my pain meds..." he caught something moving out of the corner of his eye, but didn't pay too much attention. The rest of the team didn't seem too worried. He grabbed supplies and made sure he had what was needed to stop the bleeding.

The man they'd met in the bunker came running. "NO! Don't let them get away!"

Shepard looked up. "There's nothing we can do. They're gone."

The man paced back and forth in a near-panic. "Half the colony's in there!" he cried. "They took Egan and Sam a-and...and Lilith! Do something!"

Shepard pressed harder on Vox's shoulder. "I did my best!" she snapped. "You just hid in your damn bunker."

"If it wasn't for Shepard, you'd all be on that ship." Garrus said.

Mordin knelt down and gestured for her to move her hands. She shook her head. "He'll bleed out if I move my hands," she twisted to look over her shoulder at Nick.

"Shepard? Wait, I know that name..." the man from the bunker turned. Shepard looked up. He glared at her. "Sure, I remember you. You're some type of big Alliance hero." He said with disdain.

Shepard opened her mouth to reply, but a frighteningly familiar voice interrupted her.

"Commander Shepard."

Shepard's heart stopped and she turned her head.

Kaidan Alenko emerged, looking a little rumpled. He continued speaking, "Captain of the _Normandy_. The first human Spectre. Savior of the Citadel." He stopped and looked at the man from the bunker. "You're in the presence of a legend, Delan," he turned his gaze back to Shepard, "and a ghost."

Shepard stared in wide-eyed, slack-jawed shock. Garrus bristled. Mordin glanced between them all. Nick looked around, most intrigued by the Commander's reaction. He managed to keep his mouth shut, fighting back the urge to ask questions.

Delan scoffed, his arms crossed. "All the good people we lost and you get left behind. Figures." He uncrossed his arms and made an 'I give up' gesture. "Screw this. I'm done with you Alliance types," he spat as he walked away.

"Ha! Wish I could go with ya!" Nick shouted at the man as he walked away. The man responded by flashing an obscene gesture before disappearing into the bunker he came out of.

Shepard watched him go, then looked up at Kaidan. Nick moved in again, ready to take over for putting pressure on the wound. He gave her a light tap on the shoulder, letting her know he could handle the injury from here. Reluctantly, Shepard moved her hands and got up, backing away and letting Nick do his job. Mordin helped him. Garrus hovered near Shepard as she stepped around Vox and closer to Kaidan. Kaidan closed the distance between them in three steps and caught her up in his arms. She stiffened, her arms lifting. Hesitantly, she wrapped her arms loosely around Kaidan's waist, keeping her blood-soaked hands held out.

"I thought you were dead, Shepard. We all did." Kaidan said softly, a hint of anger in his voice.

He held her tightly for far too long before letting go of her and stepping back. Shepard fought the urge to run away as she stared at him. His eyes were red and glassy with unshed tears, yet he also looked angry.

Shepard swallowed and said the first thing that came to her head. "You don't sound too happy to see me. Something bothering you, Kaidan?"

He glared at her. "Yeah, something's bothering me," he spat. "I spent the past two years believing you were dead! I thought we had something, Shepard. Something real. I... I loved you." He stepped closer, reaching down to take her bloody hands. "Thinking you were dead tore me apart. How could you put me through that? Why didn't you try to contact me? Why didn't you let me know you were alive?"

"Now this is interesting..." Nick mused as he worked on Vox's wound.

"What? How bad is it?" Vox lifted his head slightly.

"Hm. Pretty bad. Looks like we have an ex-lover rearing his ugly head."

"Oh. Never a good thing." The turian sighed, letting his head fall back onto the grass.

Shepard's jaw dropped. He thought she faked her death and did all this on purpose? She snatched her hands from his and he flinched slightly in surprise. Anger bubbled inside her so fast she had to resist the urge to attack him.

"It wasn't my choice!" she snapped. "I _died__!_ I spent the last two years in some kind of coma while Cerberus rebuilt me."

Kaidan's eyes widened. Betrayal flashed across his face and he backed away. "You're with Cerberus now?" his eyes flicked past her. "Garrus, too? I can't believe the reports were right..."

"Reports? You mean you already knew?" Garrus replied.

Kaidan regarded them warily. "Alliance intel thought Cerberus might be behind the missing human colonies. They got a tip this colony might be the next one to get hit." He settled his gaze on Shepard. "Anderson stonewalled me, but there were rumors that you weren't dead. That you were working for the enemy."

Working for the enemy? Shepard bristled. A biotic aura flared faintly around her, barely visible. "Cerberus and I want the same thing: to save our colonies," she growled, "That _does__not_ mean I answer to them."

Kaidan stepped closer. "Do you really believe that?" he asked, incredulous. "Or is that just what Cerberus wants you to think?" he glared at her. "I wanted to believe the rumors that you were alive, but I _never_ expected _anything_ like this! You turned your back on everything we believed in. You betrayed the Alliance. You betrayed _me__."_

Shepard fought to restrain herself. "Kaidan, you know me! You know I'd only do this for the right reason. You saw it yourself!" she gestured at everything around them. "The Collectors are targeting human colonies. And they're working with the Reapers!"

"I want to believe you, Shepard," Kaidan shot back. "But I don't trust Cerberus. They could be using the threat of a Reaper to manipulate you. What if they're behind it? What if they're working with the Collectors?"

"Damn it, Kaidan!" Garrus charged forward and Shepard put her arm out, catching him around the waist and stopping him before he could get to Kaidan. "You're so focused on Cerberus that you're ignoring the real threat!"

Shepard gave up trying to talk to Kaidan. He wasn't listening. "I can see you won't listen to reason," she said.

"You show up after two years and tell me you're working with Cerberus. Where does _reason_ figure into any of this?" Kaidan spat. He took half a step back. "You've changed. But I still know where my loyalties lie. I-"

Shepard lost it. She launched herself at Kaidan, slamming her fist into his jaw. His head snapped around and he staggered back, a biotic aura flaring brightly around him, but Shepard hit him twice more before he could get an attack out. Garrus' arms went around her waist and he lifted her off her feet, hauling her away from Kaidan before she could get him on the ground and lay into him. She tried to throw him with a biotic field, but he canceled it out with one of his own.

_"__You__son__of__a__bitch__!"_ she screamed, trying to buck herself out of Garrus' grasp, but the turian's arms wouldn't budge. "Pull your head out of your ass and look at the big picture! The Collectors are working with the Reapers. I know you remember Sovereign and what it did to Saren, Kaidan-_you__were__there__!_ You know what the Reapers did to the Protheans. This is bigger than Cerberus, this is bigger than all of us. This concerns the whole galaxy! The Reapers are a threat to _everything__!"_

Kaidan backed away, wiping blue blood off his face with shaking hands. The parts of his skin the blood had touched were red, swollen and blistering, as if he'd fallen into a bush of poison oak. "I've got to report back to the Citadel. They can decide if they believe your story or not."

Shepard tried again to break free of Garrus' grasp, but he only held on tighter. "We both know how that's going to turn out," she snarled at Kaidan's back as he walked away. "The Alliance will try to blame Cerberus, just like you did."

Kaidan stopped and turned to look at her. "A leopard can't change its spots. Cerberus can't be trusted. Goodbye, Shepard. And be careful."

He turned and walked away, disappearing between two small storage buildings. Shepard watched him go and when his footsteps faded, Garrus put her down. She stood there, trying to control her anger, but after a moment, she exploded, sending a couple heavy crates flying to the other side of the depot with a blast of biotic energy.

_"__God__damn__it__!"_ she screamed.

Nick raised an eyebrow, casually glancing over to Shepard. He put the finishing touches on Vox's bandage, having been able to clamp off the artery.

"Remind me not to piss her off." He spoke in a low voice, now preparing a sling for Vox's arm.

Vox grinned. "I would, but I have a feeling you'd ignore me. Plus, it might be entertaining."

"Cara!" Garrus snapped, grabbing Shepard's arm. "Calm down!"

She tried pulling away from him but he wouldn't let go. She glared up at him. "Let go of me, Garrus," she said, a warning in her tone.

He tightened his grip. "You can't change his mind, Shepard. You know him, he's always been that way. He feels betrayed and chasing him down to pound him into the ground will just make it worse. You heard him when he said he loved you."

Shepard tried again to pull her arm free. "But it was-"

"I know what it was," Garrus interrupted her. "But he doesn't feel that way. He's always been..." he seemed to struggle for words, "He's always...worshipped you."

Shepard scoffed. "He loved the _idea_ of me, Garrus. The image of the hero the Alliance put on a pedestal. A drunken one night stand and he thinks..." she shook her head. "I thought I made it clear then what it was, but I guess today just proves how selective his hearing is."

Finally, Garrus let go of her arm. "And you're surprised?"

Shepard snorted and rolled her eyes at him, then turned her attention to Vox. She was still angry, but Garrus was right. She stepped over to Vox and knelt by his head, staying out of Nick and Mordin's way. "How you holding up, Vox?" she asked gently, keeping any hint of anger out of her voice.

"Wound serious but no longer life-threatening," Mordin said. "However, must get him back to ship for proper treatment."

"He'll be okay." Nick narrowed his eyes at the doctor. "He'll need surgery though."

"Hey, I'm right here." Vox looked between them, concealing a sly grin. "I think she asked me."

Shepard nodded once. "Alright, you sit tight. I'll bring the shuttle over."

She grabbed her rifle and stood, walking away. Garrus made to follow her, but she waved him off and told him to stay with Nick, Vox and Mordin, in case an angry survivor tried anything. He nodded. Shepard left them in the depot and made her way back to the shuttle, plucking a discarded oil rag off the ground and using it to wipe Vox's blood off her hands and rifle as she went.

She made it to the shuttle without a problem and told Joker to let Chakwas know she had incoming patients. She flew the shuttle back to the depot and landed it, grabbed a litter from the emergency first-aid compartment in the floor, then helped Nick and Mordin get Vox onto the shuttle.

"That guy back there was a huge dick." Nick commented to Shepard as they loaded Vox into the shuttle. "If there's one thing you can ever count on me for; its the fact I'll never worship you, ever."


	9. Chapter 9 Checking Out

Nick splashed his face with cool water. It felt good, but the relief was short lived. He cupped his hands again, capturing more of the chilled water. The water was significantly dirtier as it went down the drain, staining the sink with specks of black. He looked up into the mirror. The edges of his face and hair were still coated in a layer of filth. Battle was sure a dirty job. He could probably use a shower, but the only thing he wanted to do was have a stiff drink and pass out.

The headache was still there too, pounding away. They had not bothered him much since his days in the Alliance. Fumbling with his kit that lay by his feet, he found a package of pills. After pushing two out of their protective blisters, he tossed them into his mouth, swallowing them without the aid of any drink.

He cursed as soon as he did- He'd have to go find something to eat now, or the medication he just took would chew a hole through his stomach. Shepard and the rest of the crew were hanging around the mess deck, as a kind of post battle celebration. Nick had hoped to avoid them.

He rubbed his eyes as he left the restroom, heading out to the mess deck. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, maybe he could actually try to have a good time with the others.

A smile flashed across his face quickly, along with a quiet chuckle. Fat chance.

Vox was already seated at one of the tables, along with Shepard and a few of the other crew members. Nick nodded silently as he pulled up a chair, not making eye contact with the others.

"What do we have to eat?"

Shepard looked up as Nick sat. "Whatever you want," she said. "Provided Gardner can make it with what he's got."

"Gardner, are you sure this is food?" Crewman Goldstein asked, poking at the food on her tray with a fork.

Hawthorne, who was sitting in front of her, coughed a laugh and turned his tray in a circle, pretending to examine his food like a scientist. "Yeah, man, this slop looks like something an animal shat out." Then he gestured at Shepard's and the rest of the team's trays. "How come their slop looks like more like food?"

Gardner took in all in stride. "I do what I can with what I got, Hawthorne. Maybe if you and Goldstein stopped bitching about my cooking, I'd stop fishing in the latrines for special ingredients just for you two."

Goldstein and Hawthorne's jaws dropped and they looked at their trays. Hawthorne tossed his fork down and got up, hurrying off in the direction of the restrooms. Goldstein looked up at Gardner. Jacob covered his mouth and cleared his throat quietly, obviously trying not to laugh. Miranda didn't appear amused at all. Chakwas kept her expression schooled, but her eyes were laughing. Garrus was grinning, sitting beside Vox. Shepard pressed her lips together and put her chin in her hand, trying hard not to laugh. Joker snickered, leaning over to bump his shoulder into Shepard's. She ducked her head down and leaned against him, holding her breath to stop herself from laughing.

"You're not serious," Goldstein said, then added after a moment, "are you?"

Gardner looked at her, deadpan. Goldstein put her fork down and got up, muttering about needing to maybe puke and brush her teeth. Gardner grinned. Everyone waited until Goldstein was out of earshot before erupting into fits of laughter. When the laughter died down, Gardner clapped his hands once.

"So! What can I get you?" he asked Nick.

Nick looked after the two crew members as they hurried off. Then he looked at Vox and the others. The turian looked like he belonged on this ship-in stark contrast to Nick, who hardly cracked a smile with the rest of the group. And Miranda. She didn't smile, either.

"I'll start with just a beer." Nick nodded at Gardner. He paused, contemplating the amount of time he had before the medication he took would irritate his empty stomach. "A beer, and...whatever they're having." He waved a hand at Shepard.

Shepard laughed a little more. "I think you might have scared him off with that latrine joke, Gardner. After Illium our next stop is the Citadel and I'll get you that kitchen-full of new stuff I promised you last time and you can get rid of all that MRE-grade crap."

Gardner made a motion of taking off a hat and bowed with a flourish. "Thank you, ma'am. I'd really appreciate it."

"Well, we're doing a thankless job." Shepard said. "We should eat like kings, right?"

Joker raised his beer bottle. "I second that."

Jacob raised his own beer bottle. "Thirded."

Garrus raised a water bottle. "Fourthed."

Shepard grinned and took a swig from her own beer bottle.

There was a silence after that. Nick opened his own drink once it was handed to him, letting the cap noisily land atop the metallic table. He took a large swig, also setting the bottle down on the table with enough force for a hollow sounding clunk. Letting out a quick sigh, he looked up, finally letting his eyes scan the faces that surrounded him at the table.

"I know everyone is trying to relax and forget work for a few minutes... But _that_... That was some crazy shit down there." He took another large drink. "How's the hip? And the shoulder?" He glanced at Shepard and Vox respectively.

"That _was_ some crazy shit down there," Shepard agreed with a nod, then glanced down at her hip briefly. "Hip's fine. Sore, but fine."

"I could say the same." Vox added, slowly rotating his arm around in a circular motion. "Hurts, but should be back to normal in a couple weeks."

Gardner served up steak and mashed potatoes with beef gravy, with a side of corn bread, butter and honey. He set the tray down in front of Nick with a fork and knife. "Bon appetite," he said as he returned to the kitchen. Nick immediately grabbed his fork, scooped up a large amount of mashed potatoes, and shoveled them into his mouth. Maybe he had been more hungry than he had thought.

"Goo-" He attempted to talk through a full mouth, but paused for a chance to swallow. "Good. Listen, about what happened down there, I-"

"I know you want to check out, Nick," Shepard said, "and I'm not going to stop you. We're stopping at Illium next for equipment, and that can be your port of call, if you want. But if you change your mind, you're welcome back."

Shepard mixed the gravy into the potatoes on her tray, ate a mouthful and licked her fork clean, then picked up the knife and started cutting into the steak.

"Illium? Haven't been there in years..." Nick mused to himself, this time cutting off a large piece of the steak.

"Since when have you been to Illium?" Vox tilted his head to the side. The medic had never mentioned visiting the planet in the past.

"Since when have you been my mum?" Nick mumbled back through a mouthful of food.

The turian didn't respond, merely looking away with a slight shake of his head.

"You're skipping out?" Joker asked, leaning forward over the table to get a look at Nick. "It's bad, but it's not _that_ bad, is it?"

_It__'__s__worse__,_ Shepard thought to herself. "We can't ask everyone to join the fight."

Joker snorted and sat back, stabbing at his potatoes with his fork. "We're gonna _have_ to, eventually."

"Probably," Shepard agreed. "But right now, it's just us."

"We'll get through, Commander," Chakwas chimed in. "We always have before, with you leading us."

Shepard snorted and chuckled, rolling her eyes a bit. "I'm flattered you have so much faith in me, Carolyn."

"We're all behind you, Shepard." Garrus said.

Shepard smiled, a little sadly, and nodded. It was quiet for a minute or two after that, then Joker made a hacking sound and grabbed his beer, taking a couple long drinks.

"Are you sure this is meat and not sawdust pretending to be meat?" the pilot asked.

"Aww, can't handle a little dry steak, Princess?" Gardner retorted.

Everyone snickered and Joker scowled.

"Now this is a first... Someone else complained before he did." Vox motioned at Nick.

"I didn't have a chance... Mouth was full." Nick took a sip of his beer. He directed his attention at Joker. "Skipping out? Sure. Call it whatever the hell you want. I call it being smart. I'm not cut out for this. I don't _want_ to be a part of this. Why the hell did I even hang around this long? Should have just given my thanks when you pulled me off that ship and then disappeared."

"Man, if the Reapers are involved in this, then you don't really have a choice," Joker told Nick. "_Nobody_ has a choice. The Reapers are coming to wipe the galaxy out, and we have to stop them. But if you wanna stick your head in the sand, fine."

"You keep talking about Reapers, yet I haven't seen any of those. Collectors, sure, but no Reapers." Nick poked at his plate as he talked and leaned in closer to the table.

"Joker, don't start a fight. Please," Shepard sighed.

"I wasn't starting anything!" Joker complained, holding his hands up.

Shepard looked at him and raised her eyebrows. He put on his best kicked puppy expression and lowered his arms with sigh.

"Fine," he mumbled.

Shepard smiled. "Good boy." She ate more of the (dry) steak on her tray and took a swig of beer, then looked at Nick. "So, what do you plan on doing after we leave you on Illium?"

"Who said I'd be leaving there?" Nick furrowed his brow, shooting a look at the commander. "I haven't made any concrete plans yet, you're putting words in my mouth."

"I can tell you what I'd do," Joker said, "I'd go to the nearest bar and get drunk while watching the dancers."

Garrus grinned. "Because getting a lapdance would break your legs."

Joker nearly choked on a mouthful of potatoes. "Wha-no it wouldn't!"

"Have you ever gotten a lapdance?" Shepard asked, nonchalant.

Joker flushed. "No, but that's besides the point! I'm not as breakable as I was before."

"Uh-huh," Garrus chuckled.

Shepard snickered softly and Joker glared at them. Shepard ate more of her dinner, then turned to Vox. "You don't have to stick around either if you don't want to, you know. I'm not forcing anyone to join me. This is a suicide mission; I'll understand if you want to bail with Nick."

Vox glanced up at the commander. He paused for a second, examining Shepard's gaze.

"I'm staying." He said as if he was stating a well known fact. No overt emotions, just a calm almost monotone voice.

Nick didn't react to the announcement. He'd expected that Vox would have wanted to stay all along. He could understand the decision too-it was about time the turian went out and "lived his dream" so to say-instead of continuing to babysit a bi-polar human.

There was just a few seconds of awkward silence, the faint sound of silverware on plates was the only thing that could be heard.

"And about the first thing I'm going to do on Illium-" Nick looked up at Joker abruptly. "I intend to go to a bar and get _very_ drunk. And watch the dancers."

"That was the first thing you did on Omega..." Vox added. "And the Citadel."

Nick nodded with his head tilted back, downing the rest of his drink. "Yeah... Omega." He set the empty bottle down. "Spent two freaking years in that hell hole. Illium..." he scoffed, shaking his head. "Should be like going on vacation."


End file.
